Ａｓｓａｓｓｉｎ
by Blue741776
Summary: The city is home to many cats and rumors. One rumor surrounds a ghost that comes in the early light or morning to take the life of a cat who has recently taken the life of another. It may just be a story, but those for whom the ghost come for know better. The ghost is a perfect assassin, and when Clan cats come looking for allies in the city, they find themselves intrigued.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey readers! Welcome to my new story! Warriors fanfiction isn't as popular now as when I first started writing on this site, so thanks for opening this up!**

**This is an idea I've had for a long time, so I'm happy to finally start writing it. Let's begin this new journey together!**

**Chapter I**

A thick fog filled the gray city, dimming the artificial yellow lights down to otherworldly balls of fire. The only sound in the still air was the muffled roar of monsters that the twolegs used on the thunder path even in the pre-dawn light of morning.

A heavy overcast sky loomed ominously over the fog, dark and gray as if threatening to rain on this already dreary morning. The alleys between the twoleg nests were dark and silent, only a scurrying rat betrayed life on the wet and smelly cobblestone.

In these conditions two figures traveled, stalking silently over the stone with their ears pricked and mouths open for watch of intruders, their pelts blending in with their dull surroundings. But they were visibly battle-hardened, with lean muscle and scars crisscrossed over their unkept pelts.

Sharp eyes and strained ears checked their surroundings, keeping diligent watch until they jumped over a fence and relaxed, as if they were now in friendly territory. "I was sure we would have been tracked," one of the two travelers, a dark brown tabby tom with an easy expression and optimistic green eyes, spoke.

"They wouldn't have dared," smirked the other, a gray tom with a solid coat and white underbelly, he held his head cocked sideways and looked down on the other cat. "After all, I was just promoted for taking down one of their top officers. They know I'm not to be tested," the gray tom curled his claws and scratched the stone as he relived the feeling of digging them into soft, warm flesh.

"True," the brown tom mewed, heading away, "But you know, that gang tends to leave getting rid of cats they don't like to the ghost," he mewed, looking slyly over his shoulder.

The gray tom snorted and followed him quickly, not matching his pace until he was a solid tail-length ahead of his subordinate. "That story is how they try to keep us away, but we won't fall for their stupid tricks. There's no such thing as a ghost."

"But the commander said he saw it once, with a pelt the color of a patch of moonlight and eyes that glowed with an unearthly light. It killed his sister you know; he even swore revenge and anyone who kills or catches it will be made the next commander," the brown tabby chatted on, not noticing the annoyed gleam in the officer's eye.

"Is that so? I didn't think our commander was the type to believe that nonsense. That sounds almost as crazy as those cats who believe their ancestors live in the sky."

The two cats fell quiet for a few paw-steps, then the brown tom gave a look at the back of the gray cat's head. "You know, they say the ghost likes to strike on early mornings like this," his voice was quiet and while the gray tom gave a growl, the brown tom was amused to see that his ears seemed to prick up more.

"We're almost to the base, just be quiet."

"Yes sir!"

The brown tom was feeling rather pleased with himself for being able to make this arrogant, stoic tom a little unnerved, even if it was over a silly rumor that no one believed.

"Stop your nonsense!" the gray tom whipped his head around to glare at him, his teeth bared in a threatening growl and eyes narrowed in rage.

The brown tom was taken aback by his sudden hostility, "I did stop! I haven't said anything," he mewed, backing away from the angry tom. Was it just him, or had the fog gotten thicker?

"Then who bumped into me, stupid?" the gray tom growled, fur bristling along his spine, but then his eyes glanced to the side and his anger disappeared. "Who's there?!" the gray tom barked out, taking a defensive stance and sliding his claws out again.

The brown tom followed suit and took up position, tail to tail with his leader. His eyes scanning the foggy shadows and nose sniffing the heavy air for anything other than the oily scent of the dirty alley.

His heart was beating hard in his chest, _it couldn't be… no way._ "Stay focused," the gray tom growled, no fear in his expression and for the first time, the brown tom understood why he had been promoted to officer.

"Yes sir," he mewed, refocusing, _I won't let him down. No ghost is going to get this officer!_ A flash of movement caught his eye, "There you are!" he cried, leaping towards the movement, determination driving away all his fear.

"Wait!" the order from the officer came too late as the brown tom pounced on a plastic bag that had been scurrying along the ground, the crinkling sound echoed like thunder in the silent alleyway. Realizing his mistake, he scrambled to detangle his claws from the plastic bag.

"I'm okay," he mewed, making his way back to the officer, "It was just a bag, offi—" his words broke off as he stared down at the silent gray tom. Shock pounded in his through his chest as the officer's sightless eyes stared blankly, a glaze of terror frozen on his face as he laid, blood flowing limply from a vicious bite on his neck.

There was no sign of a struggle. There had been no sound from even two tail-lengths away. The faint, foreign cat scent smelled so strongly of nothing that it was nearly indistinguishable.

The new officer was dead. The Ghost had struck again.

…**.**

"Welcome back miss, you're back earlier than expected."

"Thank you, Robin. It was an easier assignment than I thought. The shelter should be taken care of for the next moon now."

"That's good news," the she-cat, Robin, purred. Her fur was brown with white paws and it shone silky smooth in the gray light that filtered through the crack in the wall. Her robin egg blue eyes seemed perpetually happy and only one scar marred her perfect pelt and it was barely visible on her fluffy chest.

The returning cat felt the inadequacy of her own pelt, medium-length pale gray. No shine to it at all, even though she ate almost exactly what Robin ate. But that didn't bother her, it helped her work to not have it reflect.

"Miss, you're all wet, is it raining out there?" Robin asked, peering through the small hole in the side of the wall in which she'd entered.

"Just drizzling, it started right at dawn. It'll probably rain the entire day," the gray she-cat responded, narrowing her dark gray eyes. The warm season was ending, and she was worried about all the drafts in the shelter.

"How are the queens and kits doing?" she asked Robin. They'd run out of food the previous day, because of a delay in delivery. She'd had to threaten to cancel the job if the food wasn't delivered, not something she enjoyed doing since she detested nearly all her employers.

"The food came in right after you left, everyone is fed and happy," Robin responded, blue eyes content. "It's a good thing too, I thought those kits would drink their mothers dry! And then there'd be nothing but crying all day long."

The gray she-cat's whiskers twitched. "I'm glad…" she murmured, looking down at the smooth wooden floor. Beneath these floorboards there was a large room where several queens, either expecting or with their kits, slept.

She'd established this shelter seasons ago with Robin to give shelter and haven to queens and kits who were out on their own. Queens could come here as soon as they were visibly expecting and stay until their kits could hunt. Orphan or abandoned kits could stay here until they could hunt and defend themselves.

It was very important to her to keep this shelter as a haven where they would never have to worry for a warm home or food. While Robin was the one everyone knew as the caretaker and runner of the shelter, she was the one who provided the food and made sure it was safe from attacks.

"I'm a little worried…" Robin mewed, a concerned expression on her face, "We have more cats to take care of than normal, and the cold season will be here before most of them are able to leave."

"It's because the gangs have been more active lately. There are more queens without their mates because they've gone off to fight or been killed. And there are more queens leaving the gangs because they don't want their kits in such a dangerous environment. Not to mention the kits whose parents are killed or abandon them," the gray she-cat growled in disgust.

These gangs that tore families apart and killed senselessly, filling the alleys with blood. All for the sake of a couple more stinking alleys to control. It made her sick and more determined to keep this shelter safe from the war on the streets.

Not that she really had the right to judge, since she worked for them, ironically, the shelter only survived because of killing. She had a skill set that was only suited to the violence and the gangs wanted that. And so, in return for protection and food for the shelter, she took on the less unsavory tasks they had that only she could accomplish.

A shrill cry interrupted their quiet contemplation and Robin gave her an apologetic look, "They are starting to wake, I'd better go help the queens with their kits. Please dry off and have a nice rest. And you know, I'm sure the queens would be happy to meet you," Robin mewed hopefully.

The gray she-cat whacked her tail over Robin's ears playfully, she couldn't help but end all their conversations with that request. And she always answered the same. "It's better for everyone if they don't know about me. After all, I'm just a ghost."

…

The sun was setting, a fiery orange ball that cast purple shadows over the city. The roaring sounds of the city didn't quiet, and more and more unnatural lights illuminated the twoleg nests and thunderpaths. It was both beautiful and disturbing, but for Ghost, it was and always had been home.

The clouds had blown away throughout the day and she sat with her back to the stone stack on the top of the shelter's roof. The shelter was an old, abandoned twoleg nest made almost entirely of stripped wood. It was much smaller than the other twoleg nests and clearly hadn't been used for a long time, and it stood apart from much of the city, close to the edge where a forest lay, but she rarely went there. She hadn't been to the forest since she was a kit, and she had no desire to return.

A pleasant breeze brought a fresh breath of air and she enjoyed the feeling of it ripple through her fur, her ears cocked down to listen to a few kits who were playing outside in front of the nest. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but they seemed to be playing with a ball of some sort, tossing it around to each other.

A far-off dog's bark made her freeze, but she relaxed. It sounded like one of the twolegs pets, not a wild dog which could be dangerous. And besides that, the twoleg nest was encircled by a tall stone wall, so high that she could barely leap to the top from the ground and she made care to remove all the ivy and weeds that could give a cat a paw-hold. Only a secret entrance that was kept hidden by a bush allowed entrance or exit for most cats. But not for her.

She stood up and stretched, taking a few running steps to the edge of the roof before leaping and soaring silently and gracefully to the top of the stone wall where she perched for a moment to regain her balance and gather her strength before leaping again to land on another twoleg nest roof. From here she could get anywhere in the city without touching the ground. It was much safer since the gangs rarely utilized the roofway.

As the sun sank behind the horizon and the shadows lengthened, Ghost made her way over the roofs, heading for a spot with all her senses open to attack and her movements as silent and unnoticeable as possible. Keeping low to the roofs and leaping quickly. From the ground, her shadow looked like nothing more than a bird and with the wind blowing her scent away, it'd be hard to identify her as anything else.

She'd put it off for so long because she had a bad feeling, but in order to complete the mission she had to report to her employer. It was her usual one, who liked to keep her to himself although she'd take other jobs without his knowledge. After all, it wouldn't be good if he knew she'd been hired to eliminate some of his own cats. And given his temper, he wasn't likely to let that slide.

But she wasn't worried for herself, she was only worried that it would mean trouble for the shelter. So long as the shelter was safe and taken care of, she could do anything and endure everything.

The light from the sunset quickly faded and a few hazy stars appeared overhead as she made her way toward her employer's base. A claw scratch of moon shone dark orange on the horizon, larger than usual. She watched it slowly rise, in a mundane mood, as she leapt from rooftop to rooftop, the yellow lights of the city glowing brighter and growing more numerous as the light in the sky faded.

A flash of movement on the ground made her pause. She was nearly to the base, but what kind of city cat moved so casually through the alleyway, even near their base? _Are they getting sloppy? Or is it intentional?_

Narrowing her eyes, she crept close to the edge of the roof and spied over the edge. Down below she spied three cats. Three unfamiliar cats with unfamiliar scents, she wrinkled her nose at their marshy, piney smell. They clearly weren't city cats.

_They must be lost… poor things, if the gang finds them, they're dead._ As she was wondering whether to warn them, a call came from the end of the alley where the entrance to the gang's base was. She turned her head and slunk back on the roof so that she couldn't be seen from the ground. _They're dead now._

"Are you spying on my new business partners?" a smooth voice spoke from behind her. Feeling a slight brush of air, she instinctively ducked, dodging the blow from her blind spot and her shoulder hit the roof, quickly rolling away a safe distance before getting back to her paws and facing her attacker.

"Rowan," she growled, greeting the powerful red-brown tom, "Who are those strangers approaching your base?"

"There will be time for that later," the tom mewed, narrowing his dark green gaze, like the color of pines that those strangers smelled so strangely of. "Firstly, did you complete your mission?"

Ghost dipped her head, "Of course, the new officer of the Fox Gang is dead. In exchange, until the next new moon you'll provide us with food and protection."

"Good, good… He killed one of my favorite officers… I'm glad," Rowan seemed to relax, his dark green eyes softening. "This is good news, now, why don't you come with me to meet my visitors? I had planned on you meeting them later, but now is good."

Ghost curled her lip at the tom, "No, thank you," she mewed curtly, turning away.

"I insist," Rowan nearly pounced on her, leaping to her side and bumping her shoulder so that she was trapped between him and the edge of the roof. She glanced at the steep drop off the roof, the closest roof was too far away to reach with a jump from a standstill.

Giving in reluctantly, she turned back toward the base and allowed him to escort her from the roof to the ground by leaping onto a cold, smelly trash bin. The strangers had already disappeared into the base when they reached the ground and she allowed Rowan to herd her toward the base, squeezing through a hole in the shiny metal fence that scratched at her skin.

Inside the base she was greeted by overwhelming cat scent and the stink of rotting food. The base was a small encirclement that was lined by two fences and two alley walls, completely cutting off the base from the rest of the city. Several large bins that stank of twoleg refuse lined the area and it was beneath these stinking bins that the cats made their dens.

The base was lively, with cats eating half-rotten food and sharing stories and boasting about their latest achievement. The cats were mostly battle-wearied, and none were too old or too young to fight. Despite the stench, there was no sickness or visible weakness.

Rowan took the lead and led her to the back of the base, where a large blue tarp covered several piles of not-so-smelly wood. There was plenty of space for a few cats and she knew this was Rowan's den, as leader of the gang, he got the best den. Not that the stone floor was inviting, but at least the smell was tolerable.

"Thank you for waiting, it's nice to see you again," Rowan greeted the three strangers pleasantly. She recognized it as a façade, he thought no more highly of these cats than she did, but he was putting his business first, as usual.

"I'd like you to meet Ghost, she's a friend of mine and will be taking part in the negotiations." He introduced her with a quick sweep of the tail as he went to the back of the den to face the strangers.

Ghost glared at Rowan before following him to the back as the aide who had led the strangers quickly made their getaway. She sat down next to Rowan and curled her tail neatly over her paws, sizing up the strangers with a sharp look.

There were three of them, all with that same stinking smell to their pelts. But their resemblance ended there. The one on the furthest left was a she-cat, tall and skinny looking with lean muscles despite the lack of scars and softness of her fur that betrayed her young age. She had black fur with a white spot on her chest and a white tip on one ear and blue eyes that—like a clear puddle—reflected her thoughts and betrayed her uneasiness. That and the fear scent that came off her subtly.

The one on the far right was nearly the she-cat's opposite. A short, stocky gray tabby tom with a sour expression. He wasn't old, but he wasn't young either and the scars on his pelt told of the number of fights he'd been in. His brown eyes glared back at her and she saw he had his claws unsheathed. _Watch that one for trouble…_

Finally, in the middle of the trio sat what was probably the most handsome tom she'd ever seen, putting even Rowan, with his lean muscle, clean pelt, and suave manner, to shame. He had dark gray fur with one white patch that stretched over his left shoulder to his belly and a white-tipped tail. He had a flatter face and longer fur than an average cat, though not so long that it would be inconvenient in a fight. His well-shaped head was perfectly proportional with the rest of his body, larger than average, but not so large that he was unapproachable or ridiculous.

His yellow gaze was captivating, nearly glowing in the dark, with a look so intense Ghost felt uncomfortable looking at them. He was perfectly calm and comfortable with a passive look so contradictory to his intense gaze that Ghost felt herself grow defensive.

"Now, let's finish our negotiations. You want me to send cats to help you become leader over your group of cats, and in return, you'll help me dominate the rival gangs and gain control over the city. That was your original proposal, correct?" Rowan asked.

Ghost stiffened, glancing sharply at Rowan. The red-brown tom had always had ambitions to make his gang the most powerful, that's why he had sought her out and used her. But this… there were at least three other gangs that rivaled his gang in power. It would take more than a pawful of strangers to defeat them. And the casualties… _I have a feeling I won't like where this is going…_

"First of all, I'm not aiming to be leader of _'a group of cats'_ I want to be leader of my Clan, ShadowClan, the strongest Clan on the lake. Secondly, we will only help you after I've gained leadership of my Clan," the handsome tom spoke, a deep and commanding voice.

"Hmm… well that sounds very well, for you… but you see, I have no assurance that you'll hold up your side of the bargain after you become leader of you group of cats," Rowan mewed, giving an apologetic look but Ghost could almost smell the mocking undertone of his words.

"A Clan cat would never go back on their word!" the black she-cat protested angrily, glaring at Rowan.

The red-brown tom stared back without blinking. "You want my help to overthrow your current leader, correct? I'm sorry, but any cat involved with something like that has to be willing to lie."

"Then we are at an impasse. You won't help us until we help you, and we won't help you until you help us. But it would be impossible to for us to help each other at the same time, we'd just end up both being destroyed, I knew this was a waste of time," the sour looking tom spoke, his brown eyes darkening.

"So, it seems," Rowan inclined his head, "Unless you're willing to give some consideration, that is."

The handsome gray tom leaned forward, "What did you have in mind?"

"Leave us one of your cats, that one will do," Rowan mewed, flicking his tail at the black she-cat who glared back, indignant.

"I can't do that, my Clan-mates stay with me. However, if there is anything else," the gray leader answered immediately, showing his willingness by tilting his head respectively.

Rowan leaned back, seeming to think. "Are you willing to swear on your life for this agreement?"

"Anything, my life is a small cost."

Ghost watched the gray leader, impressed despite herself. Then she felt a tail wrap around her shoulder, and she stiffened. "Alright then, we have a deal. This lucky little cat will help you overthrow your leader and if you back off the deal, she'll kill you," Rowan mewed, hugging her close to his side. "And of course, if she fails, you can kill her and come back for revenge on us." Ghost gave Rowan a cold glare in response.

"One cat won't be enough to overthrow a Clan!" the sour tom was looking sourer as his lips curled in a frown and his frayed whiskers twitched.

"I vouch for her skill, and any cat in this city will do the same. She's a talented assassin, never makes mistakes, and always gets her target without leaving a trace. I was under the impression you want an undercover takeover, not an all-out battle. She's the best asset that you'll ever find. Not to mention, she's my mate, so I guarantee she will never betray you."

Ghost stiffened as the three cats stared at her, she felt like she'd walked into a spiderweb and all the spiders were looking at her as if she were an entangled piece of food. She remained still, silent, stoic, knowing it was futile to argue right here and now.

"I will have to discuss this arrangement first, as it wasn't what we were expecting," the gray leader mewed, his gaze unreadable as it swept over her.

"Of course, we'll meet again tomorrow evening where the city and forest meet and sort it all out then, I'll have one of my cats escort you and please have safe travels," Rowan mewed, standing up and guiding them to the entrance, calling one of his officers to take them to the forest at the edge of the city.

Ghost waited patiently, trying to get her thoughts in order. Rowan had invited her in on a meeting that was none of her business, and then made it all her business. Not only acting as if she answered to him, but saying they were mates.

Which _that _didn't surprise her much, it wasn't the first time he'd described their relationship in order to explain her presence to many of the lower members of the organization who didn't need to know about her.

_What's his game? He knows I won't go along with this; I have no reason to and he can't force me to do anything. Is he trying to trick them? The best way to get answers is to ask him myself._

"So, what do you think of my new business partners?" Rowan asked as he sauntered back into the den, his green eyes narrowed in amusement as she twitched an ear. "I think that went quite well."

"I _think_ that you have some explaining to do," she mewed curtly, brushing past him out of the den and heading toward the exit briskly. Rowan followed her, still in a lazy saunter. In the dim yellow light of the twoleg nests, Ghost led him back onto the rooftops and settled on a rooftop away from the base and waited for him to begin his explanation, her face turned away in the shadows so that he couldn't read her expression.

Rowan gave a sigh and sat down next to her so that their fur brushed, his warm scent around her, "I hate when you get like this."

"That's your fault," she answered, eyeing the few stars that were bright enough to peak through the haze over the city.

"I hope you aren't mad that I told them you would take the job without asking you."

"Among other things," Ghost mewed, turning her head to look Rowan in the eye. The dark green of his eyes was deep and mysterious, full of secrets and ambition. His scent was warm, and his easy-going attitude was astounding given the power he wielded.

"I hope that you'll take the job," Rowan mewed, moving his face closer so they were nearly nose to nose.

"I have no reason to."

"Yes, you do."

"Enlighten me," Ghost retorted, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Rowan stood and padded to the edge of the roof, sweeping his tail over the city, "This is your reason. If you do this, I will have the power to take over the entire city. I can stop the fighting between the gangs and every cat will have a better life here."

"Words are sweet, reality is not," Ghost growled. "The fighting won't end, that's just a dream."

"I'll make it reality. There will be no more orphan kits burying their parents, no more burying your littermates or best friend—" his eyes glazed over for a moment and Ghost recalled that he had just lost one of his closest friends, the one she had avenged that very morning. "That will end, I'll make it happen. But I need your help," he mewed, turning toward her, eyes glowing.

"No, I have my own responsibilities, I can't go off who knows where to do who knows what with these outsiders."

"I guarantee to take care of your charity project while you're gone," Rowan mewed, walking closer to her.

"You have to for the next moon anyways, as payment for today's job," Ghost reminded him.

Rowan lashed his tail and faced her squarely, "Listen to me, we have a chance to save the city! Stop the bloodshed! You work so hard for the cats who have suffered because of this system, why don't you want to help?!" Rowan lashed his tail again, his breathing heightened, his dark eyes glowering at her.

"Only a fool would try to save everyone. I try to save a few," Ghost answered, feeling unusually irritated by Rowan's anger.

"I don't want to resort to violence to force you to do this, but if I have to destroy your shelter for you to agree, I will do it," the tom growled threateningly, looming over her. A dangerous gleam in his eyes reminded her he had created one of the most powerful gangs in the city.

Ghost narrowed her eyes defiantly and drew back her lips in a snarl, "If you do that, I'll kill all of your officers and then you. You touch that shelter and your death by my claws is assured."

Rowan blinked, as if hesitating to continue pushing his luck, then changed tactics, speaking like a snake. "You love that shelter, why? Would you do anything for it?" Ghost pinned her ears back and didn't answer. "Well how about this, if you agree to complete this mission, I promise that my gang will take over providing food and protection for as long as we exist as a gang. You will never need to take on another job again, this will be the last one and your shelter will be safe for as long as I live."

Ghost stared at Rowan, wide-eyed as he gave her a smug but kind look. "Won't you need me while taking over the other gangs?" she grumbled, giving her chest a few licks to hide her shock.

"No, that's what my new partners are for. I'm offering you this proposal, if you take this job for me, your shelter will have everything it needs for the rest of my life. You won't have to work ever again and can focus on taking care of the cats in your shelter, just like you want to, right?"

"But, Rowan…" she mewed, "How can I trust you?" she regarded the tom carefully. She'd worked for him for several seasons, and she'd known him longer. They'd been friends as kits, her only friend, he'd been so important to her… Then they had split when they took different paths and only in the past few seasons had they met again and the feelings that she'd forgotten had bubbled up again.

"And when you come back from this mission, I don't want you to be a 'ghost' anymore. I want you to be my mate and mother to my kits. I want you to share my dream of peace, the peace that started with your shelter, and stand by my side," Rowan mewed, green eyes glowing with a look she'd only seen glimpses of in the edge of her vision when she wasn't paying attention, but which she felt in her heart.

Fear overfilled her; she wasn't ready for this. She didn't deserve it. This happiness, this love, it would be wasted on her. But she longed for it in her heart, a life without killing, with a cat she loved, helping others instead of causing harm. She didn't know if she could live such a life, but she wanted to try. All she had to do was one last job, one last bloodstained journey.

Tentatively, she reached out and touched her nose to Rowan's. "Okay, I'll do the mission."

**...**

**In case you were wondering, t****his story takes place in the 'new' forest, by the lake. I haven't read the new series though, so, this is canon only up to 'Bramblestar's Storm.' I didn't want to say that at the beginning, because it doesn't start out in the Clans, so it may have been confusing _**

**I typically start stories with a character who is really young, so this is going to be interesting, starting to write the story of a cat who already has a story behind her, but I'm excited about it! **

**Next chapter will have allegiances (probably not the complete four Clans, but the important cats) and I hope to update this regularly, but I have a lot of stuff that comes first before writing, so there's no promise other than I promise not to abandon this work! **

**If you're still reading these notes, you're awesome. Thank you for reading this first chapter and I hope you'll be back!**

**Feel free to leave your impressions, thoughts, praise, or critique in the form of reviews! My only rule is no swearing and no 'personal' insults. If you want to say the story sucks (without the use of swears), feel free! (though an explanation is appreciated) If you insult me personally or anyone else (not including fictional characters) the comment will be deleted or reported :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi there, here's the new chapter! Thanks so much for coming back to read this story again and for all the support I've received so far! **

**Chapter II**

"_No! don't leave me!" _Ghost's paws thumped in swift rhythm as she raced past shapeless shadows, desperately reaching, calling toward a motionless gray scrap of fur. She heard the scream in her ears and her heartbeat went to her throat as she choked on her own emotions. She tried to call out, but silence reverberated in her ears and the faster she ran, the further she seemed to get from the scrap of fur.

She stumbled and scrunched her eyes, bracing for the impact, but the feeling of falling jolted her from her sleep and she sat bolt upright, ears pricked and breathing accelerated. Looking around the upper floor of the shelter, a scrap of yellow light from the artificial city lights fell over her and she narrowed her eyes against it.

Giving a slight sigh, she laid back down on the bare wooden floor, eyes closing as she tucked her tail securely under her muzzle. _I haven't dreamt that for so long… _Images flashed in her mind; memories that were better left forgotten.

Realizing she wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep she stood up, lengthening her forelegs in front of her as she arched her back in a deep stretch. Relaxing from her stretch she walked over to the hole in the wall along the slanted roof, breathing in the fresh breeze that hailed the coming of dawn.

Fixing her gray eyes on the lone artificial light that stood near the abandoned twoleg nest, she recalled Rowan's words to her earlier that night. He was probably the only cat she could imagine loving, and she was certain that he felt the same. Together they could change everything, for each other and for the city. _I have only one obstacle now; this mission._

"Up already?" a sleepy voice dragged her from her reflections and her whiskers twitched as she saw Robin getting out of her nest at the opposite corner of the attic, as Robin had told her it was called. The brown and white she-cat took a moment to detach herself from the old twoleg blankets, shaking each leg in turn.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Ghost answered softly.

"No… I should get up now anyways, the daily delivery of food should be here soon," Robin mewed, yawning as she shook off the last blanket and trotted over to her, eyes sliding closed.

"Are you okay? I heard you crying out in your sleep again," Robin mewed, looking at her with concern in her pretty eyes.

Ghost shook her head, pressing her head to Robin's soft shoulder, "It was that dream again…" Robin nodded slowly without responding, sympathy in her eyes as she laid her tail over her shoulders.

"Are you worried about something?"

Ghost hesitated, she had taken missions that had required her to travel away from the city before, but she was under the impression this one would take her further than ever. And she wasn't fond of those cats. "There's a mission…"

"Already?" Robin couldn't hide her disappointment as her eyes dropped and her tail fell defeatedly to the floor. "But you finished one yesterday, you can take a break for a little while at least."

"But Robin…" she beseeched her best friend, "If I take this mission, I'll never have to take another one again. Rowan promised me if I did this for him, he'd take care of the shelter for as long as his gang exists."

Robin frowned, "You're far too trusting of that cat. You know I don't like him."

"You don't like any gang cats, you don't know him like I do," Ghost defended Rowan. Robin had been a kittypet until her elderly twoleg had died and she had become an alley cat. But on her first encounter with a gang she'd almost been killed and gotten that one nasty scar.

Ghost had met her shortly after and was at first suspicious, but the fiery kittypet was persistent and they had started helping each other and eventually they'd decided to open this shelter together. Since then they'd worked together and been as close as family. But Robin still didn't like the gangs.

"I trust him," Ghost repeated, finding she truly believed her words. "And when I return from this mission, we will become mates."

Robin blinked in surprise, and touched her shoulder with her nose, "I can see how happy you are about this, but as your friend, I still worry."

Ghost purred, "There's no need, after all," she mewed, getting to her paws and padding toward the exit onto the roof, "I've got you as a friend."

…**.**

Ghost laid on her back on a stone stack- a chimney as Robin called it- on a rooftop, watching the sunset reflect off the clouds in sanguine glory. The light spread out from the west, toned red and orange and gold and purple. She watched it quietly, soaking in the warmth of the sun-warmed stone beneath her. She'd caught herself a meal and spent the day training, resting up for the meeting that would soon take place.

Her nose twitched as a faint cat scent swept over to her, getting to her paws, she stood up straight, so that her silhouette was clearly visible against the red sky. It took only a few moments for Rowan to find her and the tom's green eyes flashed with pleasure as he grew nearer to her.

"You look lovely tonight," he complimented her as she leaped gracefully off the chimney to his side, brushing against his side.

"Thank you," she mewed, she'd groomed her fur silky smooth after training that day, something she rarely did. "I wanted to show these outsiders the best of city cats."

Rowan purred, a sound she'd rarely heard from him, but one she could get used to. "Shall we go?" he asked, heading toward the forest. Ghost nodded and padded after him, sticking to his side and leaping in unison with him from rooftop to rooftop so that any cat watching would see only one figure, their shadows melded together.

The sky had turned dark and the artificial twoleg lights dotted the cityscape like fireflies by the time they reached the edge of the city. In contrast, the forest's deep shadows and heavy canopy of leaves seemed dark and foreboding.

The sound of wind shivering through the trees and the far-off call of an owl made Ghost uneasy and she pressed herself closer to Rowan, who purred. "We met in the forest, you know, it brings back memories," he mewed, a note of nostalgia in his voice.

Ghost suppressed a shiver at the memories. Back then, Rowan had been her only friend, and their meetings were the only thing in her life she'd been able to look forward to. So much had changed since then…

"They're here," she mewed tersely, sensing their approach with her sensitive ears and nose, she was especially on edge with the creeping forest shadows, making her so uncomfortable in comparison to the city's familiar shadows.

"I'm glad to see you again," Rowan mewed, dipping his head in greeting as the three forest cats emerged silently from the shadows as if they were a part of them.

"The pleasure is mine," the handsome gray leader mewed, his yellow eyes flashing like lightning in the shadows. "We have discussed and have agreed to your proposal. However, if we fail to take over our Clan, we will come for your head." The threatening words were spoken with such confidence that Ghost was impressed.

Rowan's tail flicked happily, "With her by your side, I have no doubt of your success. And once you've gained control, you will return and aid me in my ambitions. My mate will see that we both keep our words."

"Alright then," the gray leader mewed, turning to Ghost for the first time, "Are these conditions agreeable to you?"

Ghost was taken aback; she'd never been asked that before. "Oh, yes, fine," she mumbled, confused. She looked to Rowan and he gave her an approving nod.

"Then we are done here, we leave tomorrow at dawn," the sour looking pale gray tom spoke, seeming relived.

"We will meet back here then and set off," the gray leader mewed, giving a signal with his tail that his subordinates understood, and they turned and swiftly vanished back into the shadows.

Ghost let out a sigh, "I hope this won't take too long."

Rowan flicked his tail over her ear, "I'm sure you'll be back in a moon, you've rarely taken longer than that. And when you do, we can be together forever." His voice was so sweet, and his eyes looked so soft… Ghost turned toward him and rubbed her head along his chin.

"I've loved you for so long, I didn't fully realize it though," she mewed quietly, locking eyes with his. "You saved me, more than you could ever know…"

Rowan dipped his head, "I'm glad, I can't imagine sharing my dream, my life with anyone but you." His green eyes captivated her, so secretive, but she felt that the warm glow in them was her first glimpse at what lay beneath, she wanted to know so much more about him.

"Ghost… spend the night with me," Rowan invited, leading her away, "Let's count the stars until they all burn out and watch the sun rise. Let's be together, as long as we can." And with him she went happily.

…

"Ghost?" Robin's soft voice echoed through the attic as Ghost crept back into the shelter, shaking the dew from her pelt.

"Robin? I'm sorry, but I've got a mission and I must go away for a while. Rowan's gang will take care of protection and food, so you don't need to worry. Just keep helping the queens and the kits," Ghost padded over to Robin who blinked sleep from her eyes, looking at her sorrowfully.

"Okay… be safe and come back soon," Robin mewed with a sigh, standing up to touch her shoulder with her tail gently before her nose wrinkled. "Were you with Rowan again?"

Ghost's tail tip twitched at the accusatory tone, but she didn't want to fight right before she left. "Yes… but we'll talk about that when I get back, okay?"

"Ghost, you have to see he's just using you, like he uses everyone! Like those gangs always do…"

"Robin, he's not like that. He wants to make the city a better place… Now I have to go, please take care of things here." Ghost broke her gaze away from Robin's sad blue eyes and turned her back on her friend, exiting almost fast enough to not hear Robin's last words to her.

"I'll miss you."

_Me too…_

Shaking her head as if shaking off rain droplets, Ghost soared through the air, the wind tickling at her fur and filling her ears. Despite her misgivings of travelling with strangers to a forest, the excitement of a journey still made her paw steps light as if she were a kit.

The sky was turning from black to pale blue, with a hue of yellow to the far east where the sun would soon rise and fill the sky with light. For now, a faint fog filled the city alleys that Ghost leaped over, the cool air sweet and refreshing on her face. Despite the curt farewell to Robin, her heart was full of joy she'd not felt for a long time and Rowan's captivating gaze held her thoughts hostage so that she flew into the forest without any misgivings.

The moment her paws hit the grass she bolted, barely dodging a gray paw that swiped for her legs. Happy feeling gone, she turned serious and made herself invisible immediately, her training helping her disappear almost instantly. Luckily, the thick foliage made it easy to hide and the wind was in her favor as she crept along the aspen branch that her fur blended into perfectly.

Her attacker had also disappeared, but after a couple of moments, she found him well hidden under a fern bush. It was too far away for her to reach in one leap, but luckily the cat clearly had no idea where she was, since he was facing the wrong direction.

She laid there in wait. One cat she could take on in combat, but there were three of them. Her attacker was starting to shift and make noise, making sure he was visible, and the two others that were hidden would catch her as soon as she made herself visible. _So, what now…_

She watched in amusement as all three cats seemed to get impatient and she got comfortably settled in her perfect hiding spot. With the shadows and leaves, she was invisible from the ground and they wouldn't catch her scent unless they climbed a tree downwind of her.

As expected, the cats got out of their hiding places and seemed to speak for a few moments before splitting up, probably trying to find her. _I can't take on three at once, but one at a time is no problem. _Though she wondered why the forest cats were attacking her, _a betrayal? Or something else?_

As the three split up, Ghost decided to go after the sour looking tom. Sure, the young she-cat might be easier to defeat, but the tom was less likely to cry out for help. His scars told her he had a reputation to defend.

Waiting for them to be out of sight of each other, she carefully crept along the smooth aspen branch, feeling old memories stir in the back of her mind. Shutting them out quickly, she kept her eyes focused on her prey, creeping slowly from tree to tree, using the branches that crisscrossed so that it was simple to traverse through the treetop.

The sour tom had stopped to sniff at a scrap of fur that belonged to one of the wild dogs that roamed the city and surrounding forest. While he was distracted, she dropped silently out of the tree to hit his back. A grunt was all the noise he made before she had his muzzle stuffed in the ground.

"What is this about?" she asked quietly, leaning into his ear and looking into his wide brown eyes that glared at her. Her claws slowly slid out, digging into him. "The only reason I'm not killing you right now is because I don't sense any blood lust from you, so be grateful."

With a tremendous effort, the little tom threw her off and spun around to face her as she landed lightly on her paws, poised to take off again. "We wanted to test you… it seems you're more skilled than I thought," the tom growled, glaring at her, then he let out a call that was probably a signal since the other two soon joined them.

The gray leader, who had been the first to try to attack her, nodded to the sour looking tom. "Tinyfang, how did she do?" _Tinyfang? What kind of name is that?_ Ghost's whiskers twitched in amusement and a ripple of amusement went through her as she glanced at the small gray tom who seemed even sourer than before.

"She did fine, she's good at hiding and she's pretty quick. Though I have doubts about how much we should trust her," the tom added, brown eyes narrowed in disdain as he looked at her.

"We can't afford to be picky; we'll have to trust her for this to work. Blackpoppy," the gray leader turned to the black she-cat, "Fetch our food. We'll eat and then head out." The black she-cat went immediately to go grab the food and Ghost faced the gray leader suspiciously.

"You didn't trust my skills enough? You had to test me?" her lip curled; she hadn't been tested for a job since she'd first came to the city. Her success rate was 100%, no exceptions.

"I don't usually rely on the words of others," the gray tom's yellow eyes flicked over her. "You seem unusually skilled, though you don't look like it."

Ghost shrugged and didn't bother answering, already feeling uneasy as the sound of rustling leaves surrounded her. "You know, I prefer knowing the names of the cats I work for," she mewed, narrowing her eyes as the gray leader continued to stare at her.

"Of course, and I prefer knowing the name of whomever is working under me."

Ghost curled her lip again, "I don't need a name. Everyone around here calls me 'Ghost' but you can call me whatever you like."

The tom regarded her silently for a moment, his gaze unreadable. "Ghost is fine then. And you already know the names of Tinyfang and Blackpoppy, correct?"

Ghost nodded, her ears twitching at the strange names again, they seemed rough and coarse against her ears. "And yours?" she persisted, tail flicking as a gleam of amusement swept through his yellow eyes. _Is he toying with me?_

"Of course, you would want to know my name… I'm surprised Rowan didn't tell you though. My name is Stormfang, and when I become leader, it'll be Stormstar."

_Why would he change his name just because he became leader? These cats are so strange…_ But her curiosity was absent, and she passed the time by picking at a scrap of moss stuck between her toes on her front left paw. Blackpoppy soon returned with food for all four of them and Ghost picked a small mouse from the pile. It was cold and from the smell, it had been caught last night. Though that was fresher than she was used to.

"You can have more than just that," Stormfang mewed, as he cleanly picked apart a squirrel, a feat she wasn't sure she would ever be able to do.

Ghost shook her head in reply, she had eaten not long before and she didn't want to be overfull for travelling. The cats ate in silence as dawn broke upon them, bringing the song of birds to a swell and the city noises grew louder.

She looked back at the stone and brick of the city. The noise, the sights, the smell, the energy of the city, she would miss it. But she'd be back before she knew it. And Rowan would be waiting for her. The thought perked her up enough to finish her meal and give herself a quick grooming as the others finished their meals.

When they'd all finished Stormfang stood up and with a flick of his tail the two other cats fell into formation behind him, flanking both of his sides. "Ghost, you walk up here by me. Guide us away from the city and on our journey, I will explain to you the situation and your role when we reach our Clan again."

Her fur prickled a little as she stood so closely to other cats. Stormfang was about a mouse-length away from her right shoulder and Tinyfang was about two steps behind her to her left, making her feel even more boxed in as they headed out under the cover of the trees.

Stormfang had asked her to guide them, but she hadn't been to the forest outside the city since she was a kitten and from what she knew, there wasn't much to beware anyways. She spotted a tiny spring bubbling with water and the water trickling peacefully down a cascade of rocks. She had often played with Rowan here, if she remembered correctly. Her brother and she would sneak out to play with Rowan and several other city kittens. It had been so fun until…

"The journey to the lake takes about two days, but if we're quick enough, we can make it in a day and a half," Tinyfang grumbled, his eyes and ears focused on their surroundings.

_Two days? That's far…_ "Hey, if you live so far away, how did you even know about the city and the cats in it?" _cats don't usually travel all that much, and news travels even less._

"A loner came by and told us about it. We decided to take our chances and luckily, we met up with Rowan. He was willing to hear us out and we reached a deal." Stormfang spoke calmly, as if there weren't hundreds of things that could have gone wrong.

"Glad it worked out," Ghost mewed, a bit of ire creeping into her voice.

"Don't use that tone with us, city cat," Tinyfang growled. "We didn't force you into this, your leader and mate did, so blame him."

Ghost would have torn his ear off in anger, but she'd paused, distracted by something else. "I suggest we climb a tree," she mewed, leaping for the nearest one and quickly getting to one of the lower branches, uncomfortable with how much bounce the branch had, compared to the sturdy walls and rooftops she was used to.

"Hey, didn't you hear me?" she growled, glaring at the three cats that were still on the ground, looking at her in a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

"Why climb a tree?" Tinyfang growled.

Ghost pinned her ears to the back of her head, did their ears and nose not work? "Do it or you'll be dog-food, literally."

The word 'dog' seemed to trigger something and the three cats instantly scattered. Stormfang and Blackpoppy swiftly, if not clumsily, climbed a birch tree, peeking their heads cautiously out of the green foliage.

Tinyfang has chosen an old, withered maple tree that had soft bark and hung close to the ground, he'd also chosen the lowest branch to perch upon. Ghost flattened her ears against her head, _he's from a forest, how can he be so stupid? A big dog can reach him from that height… _

She looked at Stormfang, wondering if the leader would tell his subordinate to climb higher to safety. But the gray leader seemed to be occupied with keeping his footing, his broad shoulders trembling with the effort. _I hate working for fools…_

She started making her way toward Tinyfang, her ears twitching as the thump of heavy pawsteps approached them rapidly. The dog must have finally caught their scent, and if it caught sight of them, they'd have to travel by tree through the whole forest, or until the dog got distracted.

"Tinyfang! Climb higher!" she hissed at him from an oak tree close to the old maple.

The pale gray tom glared up at her, trembling from the effort of keeping his balance, "This is high enough!"

Ghost lashed her tail, "No, it's not. You know it's not! The dog is coming, now you better hurry up or we'll all be in danger," she growled.

Tinyfang remained mutinously silent for a few moments before hesitatingly standing on the branch, his claws dug deep into the soft wood and he stood, tail trembling, trying not to fall.

"For the love of—" Ghost cut herself off and got closer to Tinyfang, leaping into the old maple tree on a higher branch. The wood was soft but narrow and she could tell some of the branches were rotten. This was not the tree for an amateur tree climber.

"Tinyfang, you need to put your claws away and use your tail to balance. It's no different then waling on a straight line. You've done that before, right?" she coaxed, using her sweet voice she usually used for kits.

Tinyfang glared up at her without answering, but his brown eyes glinted in fear as the loud bark of a dog sounded close by. It was almost here. "Sheath you claws, good, not so hard right? Now do you see this branch. It's just a little jump, you could almost step up onto it, use your tail and focus your jump. Good! Now, this branch next to me, this is the last one, it's a little further, but you did so great on the last one, no need to worry. Good job! We're safe."

Ghost purred as Tinyfang crouched, trembling, digging his claws back into the soft wood, his breaths coming in pants. It wasn't a moment too soon as a big brown dog hurled itself between the trees, circling around the bottom of the willow and looking up at the two of them, giving three barks to announce that it'd found them. Loudly.

Ghost arched her back and hissed, "Go back to your home, crow-food! We're leaving anyways!"

The dog answered by barking viciously, its saliva drooling from its large fangs. "Humph, some dogs have no manners."

"Are there dogs with manners?" Tinyfang asked sarcastically, glaring at her again.

Ghost shrugged, "Not many. But this one has an especially foul mouth."

Tinyfang regarded her with narrowed eyes, "Can you understand it?"

Ghost glanced at him sideways with a cold look and didn't respond. "Anyways, it's not going to leave us alone, better start travelling by tree, we should join up with your friends and get movi—" She broke off her own sentence as she saw a black figure fall from the birch tree that the other two forest cats had been in.

The dog had noticed it as well and lunged toward the motionless black scrap of fur without a moment of hesitation. Instinctively, Ghost crossed the distance in two massive leaps and gave one last jump from the trees for the dog. She hit it spot on, right on the muzzle where her front claws scored across its face and tender nose. The world turned upside down as she flipped through the air, unable to keep a grip with her momentum.

She hit the ground on her stomach and was on her paws in a split second, facing down a dog that growled and loomed over her with threatening menace, scarlet drops of blood falling from its muzzle.

Ghost pinned her ears and hissed in defiance and then growled and barked in crude dog language, _"I'll kill you if you don't get out of here right now."_

The dog seemed stunned that she'd spoken to it and the threatening menace lightened slightly, but it came back in a moment. _"No, I eat you."_

Narrowing her gray eyes, she stared the dog that was acting with a bit more caution. _I'm at a disadvantage, I should have gone for the back before. Normally, hitting the nose will scare off a dog, but this one is angry, my claws must not have cut it too badly…_

While she counted her options, the dog started lunging for her. She dodged it easily, dogs were clumsy creatures and an angry dog was even clumsier. But if you got caught, it was all over, they didn't ever let go of their prey once they'd caught it.

Half-forgotten blood-stained memories floated back, and she pushed them away angrily as she barely dodged the dogs snapping jaws, keeping her distance and forcing the dog to fight in close quarters where it had to turn and maneuver its large body constantly, slowing it down even more.

_This is going nowhere, and I'll tire out before it does. I can't climb a tree or else it'll go back for the black cat. Should I kill it? But that would be difficult for me, I don't have the element of surprise and I can't fight it. I need to either trap it or distract it. _

Glancing around she growled to herself. Stormfang was nowhere to be seen, but from the scent, he was still in the tree and Tinyfang was struggling to hold onto his branch by his front paws, his back legs dangling helplessly. _Useless…_

Her paws skidded on the grass as she slid under the dog as it lunged at her, its saliva dripping onto her back and the jaws just missing her leg. She sliced her claws along the dog's belly, but her strike was shallow due to the thick, coarse brown fur which she almost got her claws caught in. Pulling them out painfully, she stared the dog down as it growled, dark eyes even angrier before. _I guess this might work…_

Changing tactics, she spun on her paws and darted away, the dog giving chase behind her, gaining rapidly. _No cat can outrun a dog, but that's the idea…_ She spotted what she was looking for and made a beeline towards it, the dog snapping at her tail. It had been a while since she'd fought in the woods, but this was an old tactic she'd never forgotten.

With the dog right behind her she ran straight into a briar patch. Thorns tore at her skin and she felt like she was stung by a hundred bees. But with her smaller frame and short, sleek fur, she made her way out of the briar patch at a run, turning to look at her howling tormentor.

The dog, with its shaggy brown fur, had made it nearly to the middle of the briar patch, broken briar branches strewn behind him. But the thicker, stronger branches in the middle held him back as blood dripped from the dozens of scratches on its legs and chest.

_"You accursed cat! I'll eat you!"_

Ghost purred, _"How about I kill you where you stand? But I'm feeling generous today, so I'll spare you. But if I see you again, I will kill you."_

She sprinted away back toward the clearing. They had to move quickly, that briar patch would hold him for a little while, but not for long. And she couldn't risk trying to kill him in the briar patch, she could also get caught and killed.

Returning to the clearing, she saw that Tinyfang and Stormdang had both made it down from the tree and were helping a dazed looking Blackpoppy stand, sandwiching her between them to support her.

"Where is the dog?" Stormfang demanded, yellow eyes scanning the forest behind her.

"Delayed, but we better move," Ghost growled, annoyance flooding back as she stared at her employer. _Not even a thank you… oh well. _

"And you better learn how to climb a tree, forest cats!" she spat angrily, letting a glare sweep over all three of them. They looked at her, shocked for a moment before Tinyfang started grumbling in his throat.

"Oh, shut up, just get moving," Ghost snapped, sneering at Tinyfang and taking the lead. She took them to a shallow stream, and they walked along it through the forest. They walked all day in uncomfortable silence, Ghost leading the three forest cats through the forest. Luckily, walking in the stream seemed to have thrown off their scent, or maybe the dog didn't feel like messing with them once it got out of the briar patch. Either way, they didn't see any signs of pursuit

The day was long and warm, but the shade of the trees and a light breeze kept them cool. By the time the sun was setting, and the shadows lengthened, they had reached the edge of the forest.

A vast expanse of tall yellow-green grass rolled away at their paws, dotted with an occasional twoleg dwelling, fence, or tree grove. The rolling hills cast deep shadows in their troughs and a stiff breeze smelling of salt blew in from the west.

"We'll camp here tonight and leave at dawn," Stormfang announced. Ghost glanced back at them; they could get further in the night. But looking at how exhausted all three of them looked she guessed their stamina wasn't all that great.

She dipped her head, "I'll see you then," she mewed curtly, turning away.

"Where are you going?" Tinyfang growled, stepping in her way and glaring up at her.

Ghost lifted her nose and ignored him. "I'll see you in the morning," she repeated, stepping around him.

"Ghost, wait," Stormfang mewed, a commanding tone in his voice that made her pause. "We would like your help to make camp, Blackpoppy needs to rest so I would like you to help hunt in her place. After all, you are working for us."

Ghost's tail flicked, _so the idiot isn't a pushover._ She dipped her head, "Fine." She scattered into the forest in a heartbeat and crept over the leaf and twig strewn ground. It was so much easier to hunt in the city. But there was a lot more to hunt in the forest. Before long she'd caught two mice and a rather sorry looking shrew, but that would be fine for her.

Returning to where the others were, she saw that Stormfang had returned and was sharing a thrush with Blackpoppy. Ghost dropped her prey and kicked leaves over the mice for whomever would eat them later. She took the shrew and ate it in a few bites, feeling satisfied by her paltry meal.

"Is that all you want to eat?" Blackpoppy asked, whiskers twitching in disbelief.

"It's plenty," Ghost assured her, taking a moment to groom her pelt, wincing as her tongue scraped over her cuts and scratches from the briar patch, the blood had dried and formed a suitable natural bandage. But it still hurt.

Looking at Blackpoppy carefully, she noticed the she-cat was favoring her right paw and even from the distance at night she could tell it was swollen. Scoffing, she quickly grabbed some cobwebs and a large elderleaf and padded over to Blackpoppy. "Show me your hurt paw," she ordered.

Hesitantly, the black cat held out her swollen paw and in a moment Ghost had it tightly bound. "It's just a sprain and this won't hold when walking, but at least at night it'll help it heal," she mewed, "Try not to push it or you'll make it worse."

"Are you a medicine-cat too?" Blackpoppy asked, eyes wide.

Ghost frowned, "I don't know what that is. But when there's no one else to take care of you, you learn to take care of yourself. Now, have a goodnight, I'd rather leave before the other one returns," she mewed grumpily, annoyed at the grateful and impressed looks they gave her. _Practically every cat knows how to treat minor things… these cats are useless. _

Walking off, she headed out into the open field, feeling the wind ruffle her fur reminded her of the feeling of sitting on the rooftops. She went to one of the fences and hopped up, sitting on the top of the post and watching the night sky.

It was a different view from the city, gray valleys full of moonlight and dark horizons that stretched into nothingness. But the sky was far more brilliant, countless stars twinkled and the milky light of the claw-scratch of the moon was still bright.

Pain hugged at her chest as she leaped down and curled into a ball at the bottom of the fence post. She missed the sights and sounds of the city, she missed Robin's soft voice, and she missed Rowan's warmth and compelling gaze.

It had been a long time since she had felt so lonely, and what little sleep she got was disturbed by hallowed dreams. Instead, she opted to train until the milky gold light announced the approach of dawn. Another day was beginning.

**Allegiances**

**City Cats**

** Rowan:** Red brown tom with green eyes.

**Robin: **White and brown she-cat with blue eyes

** Ghost**: Pale gray she-cat with gray eyes

**Clan Cats**

** ShadowClan**

** Leader: Nettlestar:** Lanky dark brown tom with black tabby stripes and pale green eyes

**Deputy: Wolfclaw:** Dark gray tom with a white speck on his nose and blue eyes

**Medicine-cat: Oakleaf:** Golden-brown tabby tom with amber eyes

**Apprentice Medicine-cat: Bluepaw:** Blue-gray she-cat with yellow eyes

**Warriors:**

** Finchtail:** Pale brown she-cat with a striped tail and green eyes

**Rootclaw: ** Dark brown tom with amber eyes

**Brackenfoot:** Golden brown tom with white paws and blue eyes

**Tinyfang: **Small pale gray tabby tom with brown eyes

**Silverfern: **Silver tabby she-cat with green eyes

**Aspenheart:** Gray tom with black tabby stripes and blue eyes

**Rosesong: **Red, brown, white tortoiseshell she-cat with amber eyes

**Stormfang: **Dark gray tom with a white patch over his shoulder and yellow eyes

**Thrushflight: **Pale brown tom with dark paws and green eyes

**Blackpoppy:** Tall black she-cat with a white spot on chest and white tipped ears; blue eyes

**Rippleheart: **Gray tom with black tabby stripes and blue eyes

**Apprentices:**

** Firepaw: **Red she-cat with amber eyes. **Mentor: Stormfang**

**Fogpaw: **Pale gray and white tom with blue eyes. **Mentor: Aspenheart**

**Owlpaw: **Gold, brown, and white tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes. **Mentor: Silverfern**

**Queens:**

** Deerheart: **Brown she-cat with white belly and chest and brown eyes. **Mate: Wolfclaw (expecting)**

**Elders:**

** Foxtail: **Old red-brown tom with a bushy tail and green eyes

**Whiteflame: **White she-cat with blue eyes

**Clovereye: **Blue gray she-cat with green eyes

**ThunderClan:**

** Leader: Shadestar: **Dark gray tom with green eyes

**Deputy: Briarsong: **Brown she-cat with amber eyes

**Medicine-cat: Mosspool: **Black, orange tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes

**WindClan:**

** Leader: Cloudstar: **White tom with blue eyes

**Deputy: Swiftwind: **Lanky pale brown tom with amber eyes

**Medicine-cat: Sandpetal:** Pale golden brown she-cat with amber eyes

**RiverClan:**

** Leader: Dewstar: **Silver brindle she-cat with blue eyes

**Deputy: Mudsplash:** Large dark brown tom with gray eyes

**Medicine-cat: Snakenose:** Black tom with bright pink nose and paw pads and green eyes

**Medicine-cat Apprentice: Marshpelt: **Dark brown tom with lighter tabby stripes and yellow eyes.

**...**

**I tried to keep the allegiances simple by only having ShadowClan be complete, and when we need to know more about the other Clans I'll update them! **

**I hope you liked the chapter! It was really fun to write, so I hope it was fun to read! I hope you guys come back for the next chapter too, till then!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, nice to see you again! I'm glad you keep coming back to read this, it helps make me more motivated to write ^^ **

**Thank you for all the support so far! I'm happy you guys seem to like this story so far! I'll do my best to keep making it interesting!**

**Chapter III**

Ghost scored her claws across the wooden fence post, etching deep scratch marks onto the wood's coarse surface. _Faster, deeper…_ she repeated the move several more times until she was panting, and the milky light of dawn overhead heralded a new day.

She'd been training the better part of the night and now it was time to join her employers so they could start travelling again. _Maybe I should have gotten more rest…_ but she didn't feel very tired or hungry, in fact, she was as awake as ever and ready to go once she smoothed out her pelt.

Arching her back in a long stretch, she relaxed and turned her face toward the forest. The dew on the long grass rubbed off on her coat as she padded through the field to the forest and the gray light of morning hung in the air as rolling fog floated around the fields, masking far away shapes from view.

The sweet scent of earth and mist mingled together, and Ghost froze as a faint rustling sound piqued her interest. Dropping silently into a hunter's crouch, she stalked through the grass, moving like a snake toward her prey.

Her eyes gleamed as she spotted the round, plump figure of a mouse. Its tiny paws held a nut and it nibbled at it greedily, unaware of its impending demise. With a single leap she trapped the creature with her claws and ended its life quickly, sitting down to devour it while it was still soft and warm.

Licking her whiskers clean, Ghost felt unusually satisfied with her meal and felt like she could sleep for a bit. But the others would be ready to leave soon. Kicking dirt over the remains of her prey, she continued toward the forest as a brisk trot.

Reaching the makeshift campsite, she found only Blackpoppy still asleep, her breathing regular and deep. Ghost touched her nose to the she-cat's injured paw and her tail twitched approvingly when she felt it cool to the touch and less swollen than the night before.

When she arrived at the makeshift camp, only Blackpoppy was there. From the scents, Tinyfang and Stormfang had only recently left, probably to find more prey. Ghost was surprised to see that the food she had caught last night had already been eaten, _these cats eat a whole lot…_ Any city cat would have been happy to make a day's meal out of those leftovers, but the forest cats had already polished them off and were in search of more.

The faint birdsong of the forest mingled with the sound of wind in the trees in a quiet symphony. Letting the morning quietness soothe her, Ghost took some time to thoroughly groom her pelt, cleaning every speck of dirt and untangling every knot in her short gray fur until it was soft and smooth to the touch.

"Ghost? Is that you?" Blackpoppy's voice was heavy with sleep and the she-cat blinked her blue eyes as she looked around. "Where are the others?"

Ghost shrugged and didn't answer any further. She could hear the pawsteps of two approaching cats and their scents confirmed their identities as the two missing toms. Ghost turned her back on them, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the open field ahead of them.

"Blackpoppy, you're already awake?" Stormfang's quiet murmuring was soft and muffled, as if he were speaking around something. "Want to share?" he offered and Blackpoppy accepted and the two cats set to eating a what smelled like a robin.

"Hey, are you hungry?" Tinyfang's grumpy growl distracted her from listening to Stormfang and Blackpoppy's private conversation.

She looked over her shoulder at the compact gray tom and shook her head, opting not to answer verbally. Tinyfang shrugged before sitting down and gulping down a vole. Despite herself, Ghost watched attentively, and her nose twitched. She'd never had vole before, they were rare in the city and she'd only seen them when she was very young or travelled outside the city.

"What?" the gray tom glared at her when he caught her staring and she stiffened.

"Sorry," she muttered, her fur ruffling defensively as she turned her back on him. Trying to find her peace again she tried to block food from her mind, but the smell of the vole kept distracting her. It smelled like mouse but with a more subtle marshy scent. She remembered that some voles could swim and often lived near streams, _I wonder if I'll have more opportunities later in this mission to try one…_

"Hey," a growl close to her left ear startled her and she jumped up to turned around to face Tinyfang. "You can finish this, you looked hungry," the gray tom turned away abruptly and padded toward his two companions, not sparing her another look.

Ghost stared down at the last few bites of vole, pride and curiosity battling within her. Giving in to her curiosity, she cast a quick glance to make sure the three forest cats weren't paying her any attention before gulping down the last three bites of vole.

It tasted similar to mouse, but with a softer texture that she enjoyed, _it's pretty good_. Kicking dirt over the bones she turned away from the three forest cats again and walked over to the edge of the forest, the shadows of the trees lengthening as the light of dawn rose behind them.

The wind was rising with dawn, blowing away the lingering fog and from the heavy scent in the air she was worried that a storm would be coming their way. They should get moving so that they could cross the open fields before they needed to take shelter from the storm.

"We should get moving," she mewed as she walked up to the three forest cats who were deep in private conversation.

Stormfang spared her half a glance before turning back to the other two, "We'll talk more later," he mewed, getting to his paws and to other two followed suit, Blackpoppy hardly wincing as she placed her injured paw on the ground.

"Same positions as yesterday, Ghost, I'll debrief you on the situation as we travel," the leader announced, taking the lead as the other cats fell into formation behind him. Ghost reluctantly took the boxed in position as they stepped out into the open fields.

Stormfang led them in a tight formation, skirting the twoleg fences and heading in a more north-west direction. Ghost twitched her tail as a blade of grass tickled her nose and she shook out her fur, trying to get in the mood for a journey.

But the forest cats' obvious unease didn't help. Tinyfang kept looking behind them, nose flaring and Blackpoppy's ears wouldn't stop swiveling while her pelt twitched whenever grass brushed along it. Stormfang kept up a much faster pace than the previous day, taking in his surroundings every few moments.

_They're making us stand out more by being so nervous… _Ghost scowled, the field was empty and harmless, why were they so on edge? "So? What's the situation you were talking about?" the pale gray she-cat yawned, trying to be relaxed enough that the others would follow suit.

"We'll talk when we get out of the field," Stormfang growled.

"There's nothing here. There aren't even any hawks out right now," Ghost mewed, peering up at the sky that was turning pale blue as the sun rose through the trees behind them.

"You don't know that for sure," Tinyfang grumbled, clearly unnerved by the openness.

"Yeah, I do, because the wind is blowing toward us and there's nothing following us. The twolegs won't bother us and their dogs will stay by them so long as we don't make too much noise.," her tail twitched, impatience rising.

"We'll talk when we get back to the forest," Stormfang repeated, giving her a look through slanted yellow eyes and she fell silent. Irritated and sullen, she fell quiet and followed the nervous leader as he took them through the field, not pausing except when far-off dog bark made the forest cats jump. The mood was as heavy as the air. _Honestly, how did they even reach the city like this?_

By sun-high they were nearing another forest, much the other three cats' relief. Ghost was edgy about it though; this forest was darker and thicker than the one by the city and the jumble of scents was confusing. But with the heat of the day reaching its peak, a little shade would be appreciated.

When they reached the shade and padded just under the canopy of leaves all three forest cats let out a sigh of relief. "We'll rest for a little while and then continue on," Stormfang announced. Tinyfang nodded and disappeared behind a fern almost immediately, probably on the prowl for food.

Blackpoppy sat down on the large, gnarled root of a maple tree and started licking her injured paw. The wrap Ghost had made had fallen off and the paw was looking more swollen after walking on it for half a day. _But there's not much to be done… I don't know of any other herbs that would stay on better._

She gave herself a vigorous shake, there was nothing to be done and that was that. She turned away from the cats, intent on finding a puddle or brook to get some water. "Where are you going?" Stormfang's commanding voice made her pause.

"To get some peace and quiet," she snapped back harshly, glaring over her shoulder at the yellow eyed tom. He narrowed his eyes and padded over toward her. There was nothing menacing or hostile about his approach, his fur was smooth, expression relaxed, but something in Ghost told her to beware.

She took a step back as he stopped, a mouse-length in front of her. The tension in the air was almost as heavy as the muggy heat and the cicadas whirred unusually loudly overhead. She forced herself to meet his intense gaze, only to break it off in a moment as those yellow eyes seemed to leave her defenseless.

"So long as you work under me, you will respect me and my companions as your superiors. You will be obedient and polite and do as you're told. All you need to do is follow orders, that's all we want from you. We don't care about your life; we don't need to know who you are or what you want, we do not need your attitude. Obey only me, and that's it."

Ghost stood as still as stone, listening to the leader's words. _So that's all he wants from me. _Her gaze locked on his gray chest, she felt herself growing numb. "As you wish," was all the response she gave and as he took a step back, she remained still.

"Now, go hunt with Tinyfang for us," Stormfang turned away and returned to Blackpoppy's side.

Feeling cold, she dipped her head and disappeared into the woods. The thick foliage was smothering and the heat oppressive, but she still felt cold to the bone as she searched for prey. After catching two mice she paused to lap some water from a puddle.

Catching a glimpse of her reflection, she was shocked at her own wide-eyed blank stare, identical to that of her mother. Memories pulsed through her mind and her heart raced. She stumbled back from the puddle, panting and leaning against a tree to recover from the shock. Closing her eyes, she tried to push those thoughts from her mind. _They're gone, they're all dead, there's nothing to fear anymore…_

But the trembling didn't stop as she picked up her prey and returned to her employers that didn't want her to think, only to obey orders. But right now, that was all she wanted as well.

**….**

"You didn't have to be so hard on her," Blackpoppy gave Stormfang a challenging stare as he groomed her soft pelt.

"She's a rogue, they'll push their luck as far as they can if you let them. This is going to be difficult enough without a rogue's unruly personality getting in the way of things," Stormfang twitched his ear, as if flicking away a bug.

Blackpoppy closed her lovely blue eyes and sighed, leaning her head against his flank. "I can't wait for this to all be over…"

"And when it is, we can have a family, just like we talked about," a note of tenderness came into Stormfang's voice as vivid images flowed through his mind. His future, _their_ future, with kits playing mossball in the camp and getting in trouble for bothering the apprentices, and then falling asleep listening to stories from the elders. That was what he was after, a safe future for his family and his Clan, with him in the lead.

"I just hope we can make it back in time. Our leader will be suspicious if our scouting mission takes much longer," Blackpoppy mewed, eyes darkening in concern.

"Well, we should be able to get back by sun-high tomorrow. And your injury will be a perfect- and truthful- excuse," Stormfang mewed, lightly tapping the injured paw with his tail.

Blackpoppy winced, "I'm sorry…"

Stormfang looked at his mate, gently stroking her shoulder, "Don't be. We're not squirrels like ThunderClan, we don't train to climb trees. Though I'm sorry I couldn't help you," regret pricked him as he recalled being helpless in the tree, unable to move as a ferocious dog lunged for his mate.

"We're lucky we had Ghost," Blackpoppy mewed slyly and Stormfang felt a sharper prick of annoyance and grumbled in response. "She's a weird one. Bad-tempered for sure, and weak. And yet…" Stormfang didn't comment as Blackpoppy's voice fell away.

Ghost. The cat the city cats seemed to unanimously recommend as being the strongest and most fearsome cat for hire. When he'd asked Rowan if he knew of her and was then introduced, he'd been struck by how ordinary the famous cat was. Pale gray, short furred, average size, and blank, gray eyes. She was capable, they'd found that out when they tested her, but not impressively so. Stormfang had no doubt he could beat her in a fight, as could Tinyfang and Blackpoppy when they were at full strength.

And yet. It was Ghost who'd sensed the dog first, long before they had been able to sense it, despite being clearly ill at ease in a forest. It was Ghost who'd helped Tinyfang climb up a tree. And it'd been the strange she-cat that had attacked the dog, somehow reaching it in time and attacking it to draw its attention, and without a shred of fear she'd dodged it and somehow led it away so that it was unable to follow them.

A prickle lifted the fur along his spine as he recalled the look she had when he'd been speaking to her now, sick of her uncooperative attitude. She hadn't looked at him, nodding blankly without any emotion in her face as he insulted her.

Yawning, he used a hind-paw to scratch behind his ear. He had been expecting her to get angry and argue with him and he would have been able to know more about her through it. But instead she'd gone silent and locked up. It would be much more difficult to trust a cat that kept everything to herself.

He picked his head up as two mice landed in the ground in front of his paws from where he laid by Blackpoppy. Narrowing his eyes at Ghost he pawed the mice closer. They were still warm, and plump, and she'd returned before Tinyfang. _Impressive again. _

"Go eat something yourself," he ordered, giving one of the mice to Blackpoppy and keeping one for himself.

Ghost dipped her head, gray eyes blank, but he thought he detected a glaze of fear, or perhaps exhaustion, in the gray depths. He watched her attentively for a moment before going after her, the mouse swinging from his jaws by the tail.

"Here," he mewed, handing the mouse over to her. "Eat, Tinyfang will be back any moment with food for me."

Ghost shook her head, trying to turn away but he blocked her path. "You're tired, eat and rest. You'll slow us down if you're too tired." The she-cat peered up at him, seeming suspicious, but she took the mouse without a word and went to sit on a patch of moss apart from them but within sight.

Tail twitching at the lack of a thank you, he returned to Blackpoppy and huffed. "How could you tell she was tired? She looked fine to me," the black she-cat's blue eyes were fixed on Ghost who was slowly picking at the mouse.

"Her breathing was heavier, even heavier than after she chased that dog away. And she was swaying a bit on her paws, she must not be used to travelling," he laid down and rested his chin on his paws, closing his eyes as Blackpoppy started eating. The smell of fresh meat made his stomach growl.

Luckily Tinyfang returned in a few minutes with two mice for him, which he devoured ravenously before calling together his group to set off again. Their destination: The Clan territories by the lake.

Walking in the front, Stormfang led the group of four along the way that he and his two Clan companions had come only a few short days before. His ears were pricked for signs of danger, but he kept his glance switching back to Blackpoppy who walked on bravely, her jaw hard set in determination against the pain he knew she must be enduring.

"I would like to hear about this mission soon," Ghost's voice was unusually low and curbed as he turned to look at the pale she-cat. Her eyes wouldn't meet his and she walked on, gaze focused on the horizon. He wasn't sure whether to be pleased she'd obeyed his words so closely or annoyed at the lack of interest she emitted. She seemed perfectly disinterested, a simple tool that would obey and nothing more.

"As I'm sure you've gathered, we are from what are called Clans. There are four Clans in total and we are from what is called ShadowClan. Our Clan inhabits the pine forest around a lake and specializes in hunting and fighting in the dark. The other three Clans specialize in other abilities, but that's not important for you, since the only cats you will be fighting are inside the Clan."

Stormfang paused in his words, deciding how much to tell her. "Basically, there are two cats we must kill. Or more exactly, you must kill for us. First, the deputy. I will likely be named the deputy in his place, and after that you must kill the leader so that I rise to lead the Clan. It's possible there will be some trouble with some of the current leader's closest warriors, but if necessary, they can be disposed of, though I'd rather avoid that if possible."

"Understood," Ghost nodded, face unreadable. "How quickly would you like this accomplished?"

Despite himself, he was unnerved at how unquestioningly this cat accepted the orders of killing two cats she knew nothing about. Glaring at nothing, he smoothed his pelt. _All the better, we are not walking down a path where the stars smile upon us. But hopefully they can forgive us._

With a sober face, he stopped and turned around to face the three cats following him. "Everyone, our goal is to dispose of the current leadership of ShadowClan and replace it with ourselves. This will not be easy, and if we are discovered we will be exiled from our home, or worse. But failure is not an option," his growl reverberated through the heavy air and both Blackpoppy and Tinyfang stood up straighter, pride and determination glowing in their gazes

But Ghost continued to look disinterested, to his annoyance. _Tinyfang might be right, this may not work…_ "You can come out already," Ghost suddenly snapped, her grey eyes sliding to the right where the forest thickened into ferns and brambles. Stormfang sniffed the air and realized they had been approached by a group of cats. _How did I not notice?_

Bunching his cats closer together with Blackpoppy the most sheltered in the middle, they faced the rustling branches as six scar-studded cats slipped quietly from the undergrowth and surrounded them in a half circle.

"I'm impressed you sensed us," the leader of the unwelcome group, a fierce-looking brindled she-cat with green eyes purred. An ugly scar stretched across her muzzle and muscles bulged under her thin pelt. All the other cats looked similar, their scars attesting their experience and muscles to attest their strength. Stormfang slid out his claws, they weren't going to let them go without a fight.

"We're just passing through," he growled, stepping away from the group to lock eyes with the she-cat.

"Oh dear, you see, we don't like cats passing through our territory without our say-so and right now, we say no," the green eyed she-cat glowered at them with such malice that Stormfang paused.

As he hesitated, a blur of gray shot past him and before he could utter another word the brindle she-cat was pinned, gasping for breath as Ghost pressed her front paws to the she-cats throat, gray eyes blank.

The other rogue cats were startled, and muttering went around the group, though not a one lifted a paw to help the she-cat, fear scent overwhelming. Stormfang looked around in confusion, then he looked at the brindle she-cat, her green eyes terrified as Ghost pushed harder before leaning down to whisper a few words in the she-cat's ears to which the cat nodded frantically. _What did she say?_

Ghost jumped off the she-cat and the brindle cat coughed, rolling to her paws and stumbling away, signaling with her tail frantically to the others. "Have it your way," the brindle cat mewed hoarsely, glaring back at Ghost, "Just leave as fast as possible."

Stormfang quieted his confusion and turned to Ghost, "What was that about?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

Ghost glanced in his direction and dipped her head, "I've fought them before. They're strong. But I suggested it would be better for everyone to avoid a fight. Brook, the brindle she-cat, agreed."

Stromfang lashed his tail, he didn't like this. "I appreciate you taking the initiative, but do not act without orders," he growled, annoyance welling up in him again.

"Let's move on," Tinyfang grumbled, looking over his shoulder, "I don't trust those cats, they may try to come back later."

Ghost's eyes flashed with what may have been anger, but they quickly went back to their normal listless glaze. "Lead on, I will remember your words in the future," her words were exactly what should be said, and her tone was accommodating with a note of apology. So why did he feel nothing but deception and insincerity from her?

"Let's go," he growled, taking the lead again as the others fell into formation behind him. He gave a final glare to Ghost, "And don't you forget who's in charge here."

Ghost dipped her head, a glint in her eyes, "Never."

**...**

**So here we see a but more about Stormfang. It's weird because he doesn't really seem like a cat trying to kill his leader, but that still seems to be the case. He also doesn't like Ghost much, I don't think he understands her at all because she's so different from your typical warrior. We'll have to see how things go between them, especially as they reach the Clans ^^**

**I hope you'll join me again for the next chapter! Thanks for reading and have a great day! Or (depending on when you read this) night! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! sorry its been a while, life has been keeping me busy, and I don't think that's going to change _**

**Thanks to everyone who's given a review! I love them!**

**Chapter IV**

"That's the lake," Stormfang made the announcement as the sun set before them, blinding them with rays of stabbing gold and red light. Ghost paused to adjust her eyes to the light and looked down from the hill they stood on, eyes dazzled by the way the orange light danced off the large body of water.

It was like a large puddle of clear water, but the way the water moved reflected the light so that she had to avert her eyes, feeling more blinded than by the sunset. Taking a chance to observe the area around the lake, she noticed a small island close to the shore. The vegetation on the shore close the island seemed like patchy shrubs and she guessed the land was marshy.

To the right stood a twoleg dwelling and barn, horses were grazing within the fences and she reminded herself that a barn was a safe dwelling so long as you knew where to avoid. The land past the barn was barren moors and she looked that way longingly. She would prefer a territory where her eyes would be useful, after all, she was used to relying on her eyes and ears since in the city, the nose was often useless.

But the cats had said they came from a pine forest. Narrowing her eyes against the glare of the setting sun, she spied the dark halo of trees surrounding the far side of the lake. The dark swell of trees that made a half circle around the lake was like the figure of a sleeping cat, dark and sheltering. And stifling. The stillness was unnerving, and Ghost gave her paw a few licks and drew it over her ears, trying to push away her anxiety.

"We'll go down to the lake shore to get past RiverClan territory," Stormfang mewed, standing with his eyes fixed on the dark pine trees in the distance, yellow gaze unreadable. "But we'll rest here until morning. If you hunt, make sure you don't stray onto RiverClan territory, the last thing we need is those lazy fish-eaters picking fights."

Ghost's whiskers twitched and sniffed the air. The wind was blowing from behind them, but a faint fishy scent wafted up to them from down the hill. The area was marshy, but it had dry patches with plenty of streams running down to the lake. Rocks, trees, bushes, and moss covered most of the land before them with heavier vegetation around the marshy ground. It seemed a very damp area to live.

"Ghost," she stiffened as Stormfang called her name. "Go with Tinyfang to hunt for us, we'll make camp while you're gone." The gray leader wasn't even looking at her, instead he was helping Blackpoppy get into a makeshift nest of leaves and grass. The black she-cat's eyes were glazed over with exhaustion and her injured paw was held delicately off the ground.

Ghost dipped her head to his command, "Of course," her voice sounded hollow even to herself, but she couldn't help it. Stormfang had make it clear she was only here as a tool to be used to gain power. She would play the part perfectly, after all, Rowan was the only one who had ever allowed her to be herself on missions. _And if this will help Rowan and give me the life I always wanted; I can play the part in my sleep._

Stifling her feelings of anticipation, she went over to Tinyfang who was tasting the wind with an open breath, brown eyes fixed on the sky. "Do you want to hunt together?" she almost jumped as the small gray tom turned his head to look at her.

_Hunt together?_ She frowned, "What do you mean?"

Tinyfang's tail twitched and his eyes grew irritated, "I mean, there's not a lot of cover so it'd be easier to hunt together. Faster and more effective, but if you don't want to, I won't force you," the tom growled and started off on his own.

"No, wait, I didn't mean that. I just have never hunted together with someone. I don't know how, but if you tell me what to do, I'll do it," she mewed, anxious that Tinyfang would complain to Stormfang. If she didn't do what she was meant to do, they might fire her, and that would ruin everything. _Rowan would be so disappointed…_

Tinyfang looked back at her with a disbelieving look, "How could you have not…? Oh right, you're a rogue," his tone was degrading but Ghost ignored it. "Fine, come on and I'll show you. After all, if you join the Clan, you'll have to get used to working with others."

Ghost's ears twitched, _join the Clan?_ She wanted to ask but bit her tongue. If Stormfang hadn't told her yet, she had no right to ask. "You seem to be a capable hunter, so I'll let you have the job of catching the prey. Basically, you're going to wait behind some sort of cover downwind and I'll scare the prey towards you. When it gets close enough, you kill it. It's a simple task, it's how we teach apprentices to hunt."

Ghost listened dutifully, confused by the words but understood the concept, _it's a pretty clever scheme. It would probably also work on other creatures like foxes or dogs, even cats… _But she always worked alone so there was no point in adding it to her skill set. With a sigh she followed Tinyfang's directions and hid herself completely behind a rock that outcropped from the mostly open landscape.

"Be on guard, you won't have much warning from me," Tinyfang ordered, brown eyes shifting around. "And let's do this before it gets completely dark," he muttered, slipping off through the open field, the grass brushing against his belly.

Ghost was impressed with his stalking technique, with her sight hindered his presence vanished soon after his pawsteps faded from sound. She waited, crouched and ready as the sun set and the moon began rising, bathing the landscape in milky wait.

She waited a long time and as she waited, doubts entered her mind. What if instead of going to find prey to scare towards her, he had gone off to hunt and planned on hunting for all of them by himself to make her look bad? Anxiety stabbed her belly, should she go hunt so that she didn't return empty-pawed? But what if he really was scaring prey towards her and she wasn't there to catch it? Then they'd both be empty pawed and hungry, and it'd be all her fault. _What do I do?_

Fur tingling, she battled with herself before letting out a long breath. She would have to trust Tinyfang for right now. If he had deceived her, she could always hunt something down quick so that she wasn't empty pawed at least.

That's where her thoughts were when she heard a quick rustling that made her heart start pounding. If her reflexes were any slower, she would have missed the rabbit as it shot past the rock, it had come towards her so quickly. But her hooked paw sweep managed to trip it and as it tumbled onto its side, she lunged for it and snapped its neck, looking down at the massive hare in astonishment.

It was nearly the size of a cat! Its ears were the length of a cat's tail and its back paws were nearly as long as her leg. She looked up as she heard the crinkling and breaking of grass. Tinyfang was running towards her at full speed, looking exhausted and out of breath, but pleasantly surprised.

"Good! You managed to catch it. Didn't know if you'd be able to," the small tom huffed. "This should be enough to feed all four of us, let's bring it back," he mewed, grabbing the hare at the scruff. Ghost didn't say a word but grabbed the hare at its haunches so that they could carry it between them, though it's long legs still dragged in the grass as they made their way awkwardly back to the makeshift campsite.

Stormfang and Blackpoppy were curled together in a nest, their bodies intertwined into one figure. And as one, they both raised their heads and looked back at them in unison when Ghost and Tinyfang approached with their capture.

"It's huge!" Blackpoppy exclaimed, eyes widening as they laid the hare down in front of the leader and his mate.

"We had to work pretty hard, but we managed to snag it," Tinyfang mewed, sitting back on his haunches and taking the first bite. The two other forest cats joined in and Ghost took a step back, not wanting to intrude on their meal in case it irritated them. _Perhaps I should go find something to eat for myself, though I'm still full from the sun-high meal. _

"Ghost, eat," Stormfang's order was firm, but not hostile. Ghost eyed the tom carefully, he wasn't looking at her, but Blackpoppy waved her tail invitingly and Tinyfang shifted over to make more room for her.

Feeling incredibly out of place, Ghost took a place around the meal and slowly began taking bites of the hare. The meat was tough and lean, and she could taste wind and rock in the flavor, but there was also a wildness to it that gave it a flavor she couldn't taste in prey from the city. She ended up eating more than she thought she would and as Tinyfang covered the remaining bit of hare with leaves for a meal the next morning she found herself laying on her back looking up at the stars, not more than three tail-lengths from the others.

She couldn't remember the last time she felt so peaceful and warm. The stars glittered brilliantly overhead, the fragments of shining light glowed from a deep blue hue and the moon, hardly more than a claw of glowing light, rose slowly overhead.

Tinyfang had made himself a nest close to his leader and from the rhythmic rise and fall of his breaths, he had already fallen asleep. Stormfang and Blackpoppy were talking quietly, their voices hardly more than whispers but in the stillness of the night and from her proximity, Ghost could hear them clearly.

Not that they were talking about anything interesting and with her eyes fixed on the sky and her ears and nose pricked for intruders, they probably couldn't tell she was listening to their every word even as her mind wandered.

They were talking about their future. The life they had planned for after they'd taken control of their Clan. For cats who were willing to kill for power, the future they painted with their words was pleasant and serene. As they spoke, Ghost ceased to see Stormfang and Blackpoppy in their images, but instead Rowan and herself.

_What these two want… it's exactly what Rowan and I want. _She mused this quietly as eventually their voices fell away into sleep and she was left in silence. Crickets chirped in the distance down in the marsh and a light breeze rustled the grass as Ghost laid on her back, belly exposed as a sure sign of her comfortableness. _Tomorrow the mission begins for real, and soon those dreams will become reality for all of us. _

…**..**

Ghost jumped to her paws in a start. Energy coursed through her and her hackles raised as she spun around, searching for the source of her startlement. Morning was not long off and a heavy fog had rolled in, covering the plains and the marsh close to the lake and it was spreading out over the gray water and into the moors. It would reach the forest soon.

But that wasn't the source of her adrenaline spike. She'd been laying on her side, keeping watch in the night when she'd felt a pair of eyes watching her. And not just any eyes, but eyes of intense malice and hostility. The sensation had only lasted a mere second, but the bloodlust was unmistakable.

Unease rippled over her as she looked around, there was no cover for an enemy to hide behind, but there wasn't any for her to hide behind either. _They must be far off… but still close enough for me to sense them?_ Instinct told her to get away as fast as she could, it was possible that there was a depression in the ground that an intruder could hide in, and with the fog thickening, it was possible to neither see nor smell them.

Ghost knew full well how easy it was to hide in fog. It was the very reason she preferred carrying out her missions in such conditions. Scent, smell, sight, the fog successfully masked it all. And it was easy to stay near enough to a target that they wouldn't notice you, but you wouldn't lose track of them.

In other words, the fog was advantageous to the one who was on the prowl first. _We need to find cover immediately._ The thought flashed in her mind when she failed to find the creature she had sensed.

Padding over to Stormfang she tapped his shoulder lightly with her tail, anxiety biting her belly. It was unusual that any creature could sneak up on her, it was more unusual for there to be such an intense bloodlust. Whatever was out there was strong and deadly.

The gray tom opened his yellow eyes quickly, no trace of drowsiness in his gaze as he gave her a sharp look. "Yes?"

Ghost crouched down beside him and whispered so as not to disturb Blackpoppy who was still sleeping. "We need to get out of here, quick. Something's watching us."

She was worried that he would dismiss her concern, but luckily that was not the case. Somber understanding shadowed his gaze and he quietly roused Blackpoppy while Ghost went to wake Tinyfang. As she leaned over to wake the small tom, the pale gray cat's brown eyes flashed open. "I heard you before," he grumbled, getting quietly to his paws and looking around warily. "Never liked open spaces for exactly this reason," he grumbled, the fur along his spine lifting.

With all three forest cats roused, they quickly left, heading down the hill towards the lake. Ghost took the back, senses focused on their surroundings. It wouldn't have been impossible for the creature to circle around with out them realizing, but at least when they got to the lake, that would block off one possible direction they could come from.

The gray morning seemed to become grayer as the fog thickened and the sunrise was only a slight lightening of the overcast clouds. Ghost kept a close watch around them as they went down the hill towards the lake in a tight formation.

There wasn't any sign that they were being followed, but she knew that meant nothing in this sort of weather. Her ears flattened as a distasteful fishy scent swept over them. "That's RiverClan's scent marks, we're in their territory right now," Tinyfang's brown eyes glinted at the face she made in response to the awful smell.

She didn't mind fish; in fact, she would sometimes go hunting in one of the ponds the twolegs kept. But the overwhelming smell made her retch, though she tried to keep a stoic expression. The group quickened its pace, Blackpoppy leaning heavily on Stormfang's shoulder. The smell got worse, but Ghost felt herself relaxing, as she could sense that whatever had been watching them had left. _Probably didn't care for the strong smell… was it a fox after all?_ Foxes easily gave up on their prey if it seemed like trouble, cats were typically more tenacious. But her belly twisted, foxes also weren't likely to be so malicious unless you were intruding on their territory. _What was that?_

The fog filled their surroundings, twisting and distorting the landscape. A splash of water caused by a frog echoed eerily through the silence and Ghost sensed she was the only one comfortable in such an atmosphere. To her, this was the perfect time to strike when on a mission. When the target was distracted by something ordinary that seemed unusual in the moment, they dropped their guard usually without meaning to.

It was good to know that forest cats reacted the same way.

When the group reached the lake shore, Stormfang turned to face them, the soft gray water lapping at his paws. "Alright, from here we'll travel around the lake back to our territory. Ghost, are we still being followed?"

Ghost shook her head in the negative and the other three cats seemed to loosen up a little. Stormfang nodded, "Good, do you know who it was?"

Ghost hesitated, she frankly had no idea who or what it was or why they were being followed. "I don't know, but I don't think the mission was compromised. I think whatever it was stumbled upon on accidentally."

Stormfang's yellow eyes narrowed but he seemed to accept her opinion. "Then let's move."

As the sun continued to rise the clouds overhead turned to a pale gray and the fog gradually lifted. With the lake on one side of her, and the fish-smelling territory on the other, Ghost felt unusually boxed in, considering the soft pebble and sand beneath her paws and the wide expanse her eyes could feast upon.

The trip around the lake didn't take long, and by the time they'd reached a twoleg road and safely crossed over, leaving the fishy scent behind, it wasn't quite yet sun high. "We're back home in ShadowClan territory," Stormfang announced, turning towards the group. He lowered his voice and looked around suspiciously, seeming more cautious than when they'd been in unfamiliar territory.

"The mission begins now. Everyone knows what they need to do, so do it. Ghost follow our lead and play along," the gray tom ordered, narrowing his yellow eyes at her pointedly. Ghost wanted to say that it would be easier if he told her what was going on, but if they wanted to keep her in the dark, she'd just have to be extra careful.

Keeping their formation, they followed Stormfang as he led them under the melancholy pine trees that kept the ground blanketed in soft pine needles. She turned her head to look around, the edges of her vision swathed in shadows. The cry of a far-off crow echoed eerily, and Ghost's fur prickled uneasily.

Despite being back in home territory, the forest cats seemed even more tense than before and she could almost taste their anxiety. But Ghost didn't know what caused their anxiety, she didn't know her part their plan, she didn't even know what their plan was. It took an enormous effort for her to cap her own worries, but in order to keep her presence as unnoticeable and innocent as possible, she had to hide all shreds of dark thoughts or worries.

After what seemed like an eternity of walking beneath the never-changing pine trees, a fresher scent of cat scent touched Ghost's nose. She'd noticed early on that they had been avoiding the well-trodden paths in the territory, so all the cat scent so far had been stale or vague, but now it was much fresher. And it was getting stronger.

Ghost's first instinct was to hide, but Stormfang held his tail high; an order to remain still. Paw-steps, light against the pine needles, approached them. There were four, no, five cats in total. They all smelled like Stormfang, Blackpoppy, and Tinyfang and were trying to be discrete but not hide themselves.

Considering that they were supposed to be friends with Stormfang and the others, Ghost sensed an apparent lack of trust as a half-circle was taken around the group of four. They waited as they were slowly enclosed upon and Tinyfang nudged her into the center of the group, right behind Stormfang with Blackpoppy and himself flanking her.

"Stormfang," a deep, commanding voice broke the silence and from behind pine trees the figures of five cats flowed like water to take confront them in a semi-circle formation. Ghost's eyes lighted upon the speaker, the cat in the middle of the confronting cats and the clear leader of the patrol.

"Wolfclaw," Stormfang mewed, bowing his head respectively, but his yellow eyes were wary. "I am sorry the mission took longer than expected, but we ran into unexpected difficulties."

The one named Wolfclaw, an older looking dark gray tom with a speck of white on his muzzle, narrowed his heavy blue gaze. "I'm sure you did, and I see you have an addition to your party as well."

Tinyfang stepped forward now, "She aided us on our journey and in return we have offered her safe housing for a time."

To Wolfclaw's incredulous stare, Blackpoppy stole the attention, "I was badly injured, but this kind loner here was able to save my life. Father, please, I at least owe her something," Blackpoppy's pleading seemed to soften the stern older cat and he at last turned his gaze upon Ghost.

_So, they want me to play the part of a kind and gentle loner in need of protection and help? Very well then… _ When Wolfclaw met her gaze she widened her own, as if in fear, and then quickly looked at her paws, ears twitching and tail wavering to feign nervousness.

"Look up!" Wolfclaw snapped at her, stepping toward her, eyes narrowed sternly.

Ghost quickly lifted her head, allowing herself to tremble and breathing faster. "I-I don't know what to say…" she trailed off weakly.

"Is it true you helped these cats and that they offered you safe housing?" the dark gray tom had pushed Stormfang aside to stand right in front of her.

Ghost glanced from side to side helplessly, as if looking for help from Blackpoppy and Tinyfang, who were both looking impressed with her acting. _If they don't stop that, they will be the ones to give me away._

"Yes… yes it's true. Blackpoppy was injured in a fall and I did all I could to help her… but her paw still hasn't fully healed, I'm sorry." She bowed her head to the gray tom who was looking at her caustically, obviously unimpressed that his daughter had been helped by a weak, sniveling rogue.

"And they offered you safe housing for that?" the tom continued.

Ghost nodded her head vigorously, keeping her eyes on her paws. "I was alone and had no home… they offered me safety through the cold season," she mewed. They hadn't discussed what they would say, so they would have to follow along with her story.

"Through leaf-bare?" Wolfclaw glanced sharply at Stormfang who gave a curt nod, yellow gaze shrouded. "I don't know if you know, but they don't actually have the authority to decide something like that. But since you did help them, we can allow you to at least stay the night and allow our leader to consider the request."

Blackpoppy gave a sigh of relief as all the cats relaxed and Tinyfang gave her an approving nod. Stormfang gave another deep bow to Wolfclaw, "Thank you, that's all we ask."

The mood lightened almost immediately and the four cats that had been following Wolfclaw finally came forward to greet the three returning forest cats. Ghost hung back, watching a gray tom with black striped greet Blackpoppy joyfully and she noted that their eyes were the same shade of blue.

A golden-brown tom with white paws greeted Tinyfang with a playful cuff over the ears, an act which the grumpy tom responded to in kind. Stormfang was speaking to Wolfclaw and another cat, a dark brown tom with amber eyes, as a young red she-cat bounced around at Stormfang's side.

Not having to fake her uneasiness, Ghost kept to herself and waited patiently, trying to not attract attention. But it wasn't before long that Wolfclaw padded towards her again, "My name is Wolfclaw, as I'm sure you heard. I am the deputy of ShadowClan and a senior warrior. We will take you to the camp and after Stormfang's patrol has given their report a decision will be made regarding your position. I don't expect you to be given the stay that the others promised, but I will guarantee you will be safe and fed for the night at least." Wolfclaw seemed kinder at this moment and she could feel wisdom and warmth from him. He was a kind cat, but his duties came before his feelings. Ghost couldn't help but feel a prick of admiration. _And yet he's deputy, I'm supposed to kill him. I wonder how Blackpoppy feels, considering he seems to be her father. _

She was a little annoyed that her emotions had already been provoked, this was why she preferred knowing nothing of her target. "Now, what's you name?"

Ghost froze, Wolfclaw's gaze held a certain menace, and silence instantly fell over the cats. _He's clever… _If she had to guess, Stormfang had already given him her name. The question was, what name was it? Had he given Ghost as her name? Or had he tried to use a less unusual name? One that would better fit with the forest cats names. She had to think fast.

A name that suited her, probably not too complex, based off nature or observable features. She had less than a second to think and as she racked her head for ideas, wishing she'd been eavesdropping on their conversation instead of acting the part, she watched Stormfang slowly groom his pelt nonchalantly, and then turn his head, gazing off in the direction of the lake.

Ghost bit her tongue, hoping Stormfang was as clever as she gave him credit for and picked the name, she believed he'd given her. "My name is Fog," she mewed, dipping her head deeply, waiting intently to see if she needed to make a run for it.

Wolfclaw looked confused for a moment, "I see, it's a simple name," he mused, looking over his shoulder at Stormfang who was waiting calmly. "A wonder how our friend seemed to forget for a moment," he mewed, whiskers twitching with amusement as he nodded towards Stormfang.

_I see… Stormfang hesitated to answer the question of my name, probably having not prepared one and Wolfclaw got suspicious and confronted me before Stormfang had a chance to speak to me again. Figures he would pick something simple. _

"Alright everyone, back to camp. Fog, won't you walk up by me?" the deputy invited in a genial way. Fur pricking, Ghost accepted with a slight bow of her head and walked quietly at the deputy's side at the head of the group. Stormfang and the black-striped silver tom supporting Blackpoppy between themselves directly behind them and the rest trailed after them.

It wasn't long that they had been walking through the pine forest as a group when Ghost caught a whiff of a great many scents. Her ears pricked as her nose twitched, there seemed to be as many cats gathered ahead as in one of the gangs.

"You noticed it already?" Wolfclaw sound impressed, "Up ahead is our camp," he offered no more information and Ghost felt her pelt prickling. She was an assassin, not a spy, this sort of thing was not her expertise.

Peering through the trees, Ghost caught a glimpse of brambles and thorn thickets that were shaded by low hanging branches. The ground dipped into a slight hollow, but most of the hollow was hidden from view except for the thorn barrier surrounding it. Not that any cat could mistake it for a camp with the scents and the noise.

Wolfclaw led them single file through a narrow thorn tunnel and Ghost felt her pelt ripple as dozens of eyes turned upon her. The camp was shadowy and bramble thickets crowded the barrier, she counted six of them in all. Despite the noise from before, the camp seemed unbelievably quiet once she'd entered and she noticed flashes of cats disappearing into dens.

"Stormfang, come with me. Rippleheart, Tinyfang, take Blackpoppy to Oakleaf's den. Fog, stay here please, Rootclaw, wait with her," Wolfclaw gave the orders quickly and the cats swiftly went to carry them out.

Stormfang and Wolfclaw went together towards one of the bramble thickets, their heads close as if in private conversation. Tinyfang and the silver tom with black tabby stripes who'd been helping support Blackpoppy on the way to camp went towards a different bramble thicket with the injured she-cat between them, the den smelled strongly of herbs.

Ghost sat down on the pine-needle strewn floor and the dark brown tom with amber eyes stood next to her, his gaze fixed on the den which Stormfang and the deputy had entered. "What are they doing in there?" she asked innocently, keeping her gaze wide and wondering to play the part of the ignorant stranger. The tom, Rootclaw, gave her a sidelong glance but didn't bother answering her.

_Not a talkative one… then again, none of the forest cats I've met so far have been… But that young she-cat that was bouncing around Stormfang earlier seemed energetic, I could probably get information out of her easily. But she's so young, I doubt she knows anything that's vital._

Looking around to see if she could spot the red, she-cat again, she found the young cat talking enthusiastically with two other young cats that looked to be her age. A pale gray tom and a tortoiseshell she-cat, that listened with disbelieving expressions. _It appears she doesn't have a great reputation of being truthful. _

Becoming bored with watching the three young cats, she quickly memorized the layout of the camp. Directly in front of her, straight across from the entrance, was the den that the deputy and Stormfang had entered earlier. Given its smaller size, she guessed it was used by the leader or else the top members of the group.

To the right of the leader's den was the den that smelled strongly of herbs where the others had taken Blackpoppy, Ghost easily assumed that this was where they kept their healing herbs but was still surprised that it gave off such a strong smell. There must be a huge stock of herbs in there.

Next to that den, almost directly to her right, was the largest den in the camp and with so many scents mingled in it, she guessed that was where most of the cats slept. Turning to the left of the leader's den, there were three smaller sized bramble thickets which seemed to be used as dens.

The first was a den that had the familiar smell of queens and milk, from she-cats with kits or expecting kits. Ghost felt a pang as she thought of her own home, she hoped Robin was going to be alright and that the queens and kits would be well-fed and safe. She shook her head, _of course they will, Rowan promised._ But the prickling at her paws wouldn't go away.

Forcing herself to finish her observations, there were the next two dens, not notable except that they seemed to have fewer residents than the larger den from the other side of the hollow. One of the dens was the one that the young cats were talking in front of, but that was all she could directly observe and deduce.

She had finished her observations, which had included estimating how many cats were in the camp. Currently there were about fifteen cats inside the camp, but the scents suggested that at least five more resided here and were outside the camp for one reason or another.

Ghost waited with the stoic and silent tom who seemed to be getting impatient as well, as he kneaded his paws in the pine needles. After what seemed like half a day of sitting and being the focus of whispers—though no cat approached them—Wolfclaw and Stormfang finally emerged, followed by one more cat.

Ghost's eyes narrowed as she watched the lanky dark brown tabby tom. His pale green eyes were bright but held a depth to them that could be either mysterious or suspicious, Ghost's instincts turned towards the latter. He moved easily, and even with his lanky figure, she could see the tight muscle and scars over his pelt.

No one had given a call of announcement, but cats slipped out of the dens like water and she felt their gleaming eyes on her from the shadowy edges of the camp as the three cats approached her. Rootclaw dipped his head to the three cats and stepped back into the crowd as Ghost got to her paws.

"Fog, I have heard of your exploits from out good friend Stormfang here," the lanky brown tom's voice was smooth, and his eyes swept over her as she tried to make herself look smaller. "Unfortunately, it seems Stormfang was a little too generous with you, and although I appreciate the help you gave to my warriors, I cannot house a strange cat for all of leaf-bare. At least, not a weak cat," he mewed, green eyes glinting.

Ghost dipped her head, "I would do all I can to help you, I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of your kindness."

"I don't imagine you would. But you see, all the warriors in our Clan must be skilled fighters and hunters. I don't suppose you did much fighting on your travels back to the lake, at least, Stormfang did not mention any instances," the leader mewed friendly, looking over at Stormfang who stared back unblinking. The air was cold between the two and distrust seemed to be written on both their faces.

"No, that's correct," she mewed quietly. _How to do this… if I could convince him of my usefulness, I'm sure he would allow me into the Clan. But at the same time, I prefer to do my job from the outside anyways. But Stormfang's plan has me in the Clan… do I follow his plan or do it my way?_

"I may not be the best, but I am confident that my skills will be of some use to you," she mewed, "Maybe there's some way for me to show you?" she hoped the desperate edge to her tone made the proposal less out of character for the persona she was going for.

The brown leader's eyes glinted, and Ghost felt a sudden remorse for her words. It was as if she had unknowingly walked into a trap that was now closing around her, imperceptible, but just as deadly. "If you truly wish to join our Clan for the cold season, then I do have a mission for you. If you can complete it, we will welcome you as one of our own until all of the snows melt next new-leaf. But if you fail this mission, death is certain, do you still wish to try?"

Ghost stared back into his eyes, her mind going blank. The dangerous aura he was giving off seemed lost on the rest of the cats gathered, but Ghost could feel it like a deathly cold breeze on her skin. It had been a long time since she had been truly scared. It made her excited.

"Yes, I swear on my life to fulfill this mission."

**...**

**For a chapter that took forever to write, I actually liked it. Again, I'm sorry it took so long _**

**Unfortunately school and work seem to conspire together to keep me over-tired and ridiculously busy, so I don't see a trend of faster updates coming. So please enjoy it as it comes!**

**Thanks for reading, I hope to see you next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm alive! Not that you were wondering about that. Sorry for the delay, but thank you so much for coming back to read! I really appreciate all the support from the reviews! Helps keep me motivated ^^**

**Please enjoy chapter 5!**

**Chapter V**

The blood roared like a rushing river in Ghost's ears, filling her senses with an overpowering feeling as she felt herself whipped along the torrent. She blinked several times, trying to make the world stop spinning. Her eyes focusing on the crimson drops of blood that fell from her chest and contrasted like bright holly berries against the backdrop of rich, emerald grass.

Ghost heard the snarl and the heavy thumping of paws as she rolled her stunned body over just in time to avoid the snapping jaws. Saliva sprayed onto her face and she could see the deadly intent in the shiny black eyes, only a mouse-length from her own, devoid of anything except anger and hunger.

Jumping away, she turned on her haunches to swat at the angry fox, keeping it at bay with her flurry of well-aimed swipes. But it wasn't good enough. Combat wasn't really her fighting style. Her strength was already waning, and she had taken too many blows. How had she gotten to this point?

Oh yeah. Nettlestar's 'mission.' It was more like a suicide request. At least it would be for most cats.

She had been easily caught in his trap and agreed to do a mission that she hadn't heard the details of yet. That was her first mistake. But considering the abilities of Stormfang and the others, she was sure she could have handled anything they could. But taking down a wily, battle-hardened fox on her own was not what she would have expected.

Nettlestar's eyes had gleamed as he explained her mission to her. Apparently a 'troublesome creature' had been hanging out on one of ShadowClan's borders. The mission was simply to drive it away to ensure the safety of the Clan. If she could accomplish this, she would be welcome to stay in the Clan until new-leaf. That's what the Clan was told.

Luckily, Stormfang found a moment to speak to her on her way out to tell her the real nature of the creature. It was an infamous fox that had once made its home in Clan territory several seasons ago. The fox had killed several Clan cats from both ShadowClan and ThunderClan. The two Clans, previously at war, had made peace to work together to drive out the deadly creature, and only through the efforts of the most skilled warriors was the fox beaten. But although it was seriously injured, it didn't seem to have died and was back again. Only the senior warriors of both Clans had known about it for the moment, not wanting to cause a panic in the Clan, and had been trying to figure out how to deal with it.

So, she was supposed to accomplish on her own what some of the best Clan cats working together had been unable to. More likely though, Nettlestar had probably seen her as a suitable test subject to see if the fox was as strong as before. If she made it back alive, the fox would be weaker. If she did not, then it was just as strong. Basically, there was no room in his expectations for her to complete her mission, just survive it.

_I'm starting to see why Stormfang wants to kill him. _Ghost, however, had taken Stormfang's warning lightly. Although fox hunting wasn't a job she usually took, she had killed one or two before, albeit both had been rather young and foolish. But she had been confident that she could at least send the fox on its way.

Heading in the direction that Wolfclaw guided her, she'd reached the edge of the territory and quickly picked up a strong fox scent. That was when she'd first started having doubts. Among the silent and fragrant pine trees there seemed to be an ominous aura and a filthy scent. Analyzing the scent, she quickly realized this was an experienced, but not old, fox she was dealing with.

Cautiously, she had traced the scent and found a burrow freshly dug into the side of a small mossy hill. The scent was sickening and as she'd turned to get ready for an ambush the sound of a large stick snapping behind her caught her off guard.

Her instinctive leap to safety earned her a glancing blow that hurled her across the pine floor until she skidded on her side to a stop right outside the fox's den. Dazed and with her flank throbbing, Ghost sprang back to her paws, lashing her pale gray tail and knowing that her chance of survival relied on her ability to keep her paws under her.

The fox, who must have been stalking her, had charged at her while she'd been skidding on her side and she barely managed to dodge the slobbering jaws that could have snapped her body in half.

The fox, a vibrant orange color with a darker tail and black paws with the characteristic white neck and pointed muzzle, was nearly the size of a large dog. But it was much nimbler, and it followed her movements with an accuracy she had never seen in such a large, powerful creature.

She turned on her paws and batted at it, doing a bit of a dance with it as they exchanged blows. Her claws scored its muzzle, its claws ripped off half her pelt on her shoulder. She nipped at its paw, it struck her with a mighty blow and scarlet rain sprayed through the air as she felt her chest burning in pain. In desperation she bit as hard as she could on its paw until it snarled and yanked it away, backing up a step and giving her room to run away.

But it was fast and as she darted away it caught her tail between its jaws. But instead of biting it off like she would expect from such a strong creature, it held her tail gently but firmly, and with a vicious yank lifted her off her paws and swung her through the air by her tail. The world spun rapidly, and panic seized her as she realized how quickly she was flying when the fox let go, launching her with incredible force. With barely enough time to brace herself, she collided with a solid pine tree trunk and like a deadweight she fell to the ground.

That brings us back to where we were. Ghost's strength was waning, and she was wondering how she had gotten to this point. Her wounds burned as she forced herself to keep striking at the fox, trying to keep it at bay to buy her a few precious moments.

Her head ached and her vision blurred while she could barely catch her breath, desperation whipped through her, she had to end this quickly.

Getting in close enough to strike a fatal blow would be dangerous, she would likely also die so that was no good. The branches on the pine trees around her were so high up that she couldn't leap to one, and she would need an opening in order to climb up without the fox grabbing her—that was unlikely.

The terrain wasn't helpful, soft pine needles and the tall pine trees. The slight incline that the fox den was dug under would hardly give an advantage and besides, the fox blocked her way to it. Ghost narrowly dodged a slamming blow that would have crushed her into the ground and retaliated by grazing the chin of the fox before falling back into the flitting blow dance.

She knew that in a battle of endurance the fox would win. She had good stamina, but not good enough to match a strong fox like this one, especially since it wasn't wasting energy in its attacks. It fought as well as any cat. And the wound she'd suffered were more impairing.

Growling, she barked in fox. _"Why did you come back?"_

As she'd hoped, the fox was surprised to hear her speak its language and it took a step back, giving her a break to at least catch her breath. It eyed her warily, its black eyes focused on her cautiously, then it barked back. _"Cats drive me from my home. I take home back. I kill cats."_

It faced her with a square stance, anger visible in every line, but it waited for her reply. It was a much more intelligent fox than any she'd met before. _"If you come back, you will kill cats. But cats will also kill you. There are many cats here."_

Ghost didn't believe her words would do anything, but as she talked, she was plotting, studying her opponent and using everything she knew to formulate a strategy. The fox snarled at her response, _"Cats destroyed my home, I kill cats,"_ finishing its declaration, the fox charged her again.

Knowing a dodge to the side was futile due to the fox's agility, Ghost leaped high in the air, letting the fox pass underneath her and she landed gently on the carpet of pine needles, turning to face the fox again. Watching the fox whirl around, more furious than before, her eyes narrowed. _Everything is in its place._

The fox, angered by her dodge, charged her again with more ferociousness, but she could see it was holding back, ready to leap in the air if she tried to jump over it again. Using to fox's intelligence to her advantage, Ghost instead darted forward and gave a sharp strike to its back-left leg. The leg shot out and the fox whirled on her, ready to grab her by the throat. As it turned on her, she lifted her front paws and plunged her own claws into its throat. The fox's own momentum, powered by fury, drove her claws deeper into its throat.

The wound was deep, and sanguine blood started dripping from the fox's white throat as Ghost removed herself from its vicinity, putting a solid five tail-lengths space between her and the fox. Facing her opponent, she was disappointed that the wound she'd given it wasn't fatal, but it was true she hadn't sharpened her claws for a few days.

The wound had, however, shaken the fox who was looking at her with more wariness, and rage. A hurt fox was likely to go mad and give an easy opening to finish the job. But this fox, to her frustration, was too smart for that.

She had purposefully gone for its back-left leg, noticing it had a slight irregularity, not even a limp, but a favoring of it that suggested an old injury. And with the muscles so tense, ready to leap, striking it had easily put the fox off-balance. And given the fox's quick moves and rapid fury, she'd anticipated it would try to grab her with its jaws rather than use one of its other three paws that it was using to stay upright. Her own strength wouldn't have been enough to strike deep enough to kill it, but combined with the fox's strength, it would have been enough. Meaning that the fox had been able to pull back in time and avoid a fatal blow.

Ghost sighed; this job was one headache after another, literally. She hoped Rowan and Robin were having a better time back in the city. She snapped her attention back to the fox; she wasn't going to fail her mission here, not when there was so much at stake.

Crouching down, she focused every ounce of her strength and attention on what she needed to do. _Kill the fox._

Her sudden intensity startled the fox, which began backing away slowly and made its first and only major mistake, it cast a glance at its den behind it. In that moment of distraction Ghost shot herself forward like a bolt of lightning and reached the fox in a heartbeat.

The fox snarled and snapped at her but her body flowed like water around a rock in a stream and narrowly avoided the blow, twisting and climbing on top of the fox's back where she didn't hesitate to dig her jaws into the fox's neck, tearing into the previous wound.

Blood went from a drip to a flow and the fox gurgled, stumbling and then falling as its paws slipped on the blood-covered pine needles. Ghost didn't let go until she heard the heartbeat stop and she released her grip on the blood-soaked neck.

Stepping off the vanquished beast, Ghost numbly acknowledged the blood that soaked the ground and her own fur, as well as the pelt of the dead fox. Scavengers would flock here soon. Turning, she dragged the fox to its den with tremendous effort, pushing it deep into the back of the burrow, nearly choking on the scent of fox and blood and death.

Exiting the burrow, she turned to the entrance and started pulling at the soft dirt, closing the entrance pawful by pawful until finally the entrance collapsed in on itself. Next, she turned to the blood-stained clearing. She left some blood stains, but the big one she dug up the earth and then covered with fresh pine-needles. It was a sloppy clean-up job, but she doubted any cat would look to deeply into it.

She would tell the Clan that the fox was overpowering and nearly killed her, but that when she dodged the fox it collided into its den, hitting the burrow so hard that the entrance collapsed on top of it, trapping and killing the fox.

It was a more believable story than that the cowardly rogue had killed a fox that the best Clan cats hadn't been able to kill. She smirked, washing some of the blood off her fur—not all of it, she wanted to look injured and weak—but the deep stains around her muzzle were too much.

Satisfied that everything was set, she left to return to the Clan. Not looking back at the blood-soaked clearing and the fox that would sleep forever, she knew she would remember this place as where her first victim in Clan territory was laid to rest.

…**..**

"Fog, we welcome you to our Clan as a guest. StarClan has shown its favor by aiding you on your mission by blessing you with luck, please make yourself at home here." Nettlestar's warm voice was as artificial as the yellow light of the sun on a cold, snowy day. His eyes, dark and stormy, made it seem like he didn't enjoy not getting his way.

Murmurs of greeting rippled through the cats that surrounded Ghost. In the corner of the camp she could see Tinyfang nodding approvingly and Stormfang almost seemed impressed while Blackpoppy purred at his side. The cats quickly dispersed though and Wolfclaw was the first to approach her, dipping his head to her.

"Nettlestar has asked me to look after you. It's getting late and you've had a long day of travel and then the mission, I'm sure you can meet the Clan tomorrow. For now, let's get you a nest," the deputy mewed, his voice calm and nothing in his tone betrayed anything but the seriousness with which he took his duties.

Ghost dipped her head, "Thank you," she mewed meekly, blinking up at him. The deputy stared at her in silence for a few moments before nodding briefly.

"We can get some moss from Oakleaf," he mewed, turning towards the den that smelled of herbs.

"The medicine-cat, right?" Ghost asked, following him. The golden-brown tabby tom had patched up her wounds after she'd returned from fighting the fox. He had seemed quick and observant but kept those observations to himself.

Wolfclaw nodded, "He has an apprentice as well, maybe Bluepaw will be there now…"

But the den was empty when they reached it and Wolfclaw went in alone through the dark entrance, coming out of the shadowy den with a bundle of moss in his jaws which he then handed over to her. She took it, surprised by how heavy it was. It didn't look like a lot, but it had been rolled compactly.

"Come on, Nettlestar said to put you in the apprentices' den," he mewed, leading her across the now empty clearing to the den where she'd seen the young cats talking in front of earlier. "Fogpaw, Firepaw, Owlpaw!" the deputy called the three names and the three young cats she'd seen before came stumbling out a moment later.

"What is it now?" the red she-cat that had been bouncing around Stormfang before gave a huge yawn.

"Firepaw! Be more respectful!" a young pale gray tom with white ears snapped at the other apprentice with a disapproving glare before turning to Wolfclaw. "Yes, Wolfclaw?" he asked, dipping his head.

"Nettlestar wants Fog to stay in your den. It's less crowded than the warriors' den and the three of you will be moving out soon anyways. So, help her build a nest and I expect you to help her out with other things as well," the deputy said, then quickly dipped his head and turned away.

Ghost's tail twitched as she watched him walk away, she'd hoped to get a good idea on how to kill him. But he was composed and didn't seem to have many openings, always on guard even in the safety of his home. She then turned towards the three young cats that stood, gawking, in front of her.

"Why do we have to help a rogue? It was Stormfang's patrol that brought her back," the other young cat, a gold, brown, and white tortoiseshell she-cat, grumbled.

"Well, Stormfang's your mentor," Fogpaw turned to Firepaw, "You help her."

Firepaw's amber eyes widened, "What?! But I didn't even get to go with him…" the she-cat huffed and turned up her nose at Ghost.

Ghost was slightly annoyed, and she placed the moss down at her paws. "I can make my own nest, if you just show me where…" trying to act meek and humble in front of three cats that didn't have as much strength between the three of them that she had in one paw was more difficult than she'd expected. She wondered if this was how Robin felt when she had to try to reason with kits.

Firepaw sighed, amber eyes dismissive, and grumbled out, "Fine, come on in." The red apprentice led her into the low-roofed bramble thicket. There were three nests, each smelling strongly of one of the apprentices. Firepaw led her to the back of the den, several tail-lengths away from the other nests, "You can build it here, and I hope you don't snore, I hate snoring."

Ghost reassured her she had never snored in her life, _it could get me killed,_ and set her moss ball down. The apprentice left her without a goodbye and Ghost quickly made a nest out of the moss, using some of the non-thorny branches of the den wall to form a frame which she laid the moss over, making it soft and cushy.

She was surprised at how easily she made the nest; she hadn't made a forest nest in such a long time. It was her mother who had taught her how… she could hear the warm voice of her mother explaining how to weave the branches together and how to make sure there were no thorns embedded in the moss. Her mother's silky silver paws glinting with sunlight… smoothing down the emerald green moss… the memory came rushing back to memory like a charging monster on the thunderpath, freezing her in its sights.

She snapped herself out of it when she realized her paws had stopped moving. Quickly finishing the nest, she stepped into it and curled down. It was past moon-high and the other three apprentices were sleeping soundly. Firepaw was snoring.

She curled her tail over her nose. It was a soft nest, but in comparison to her mother's nest, it may as well have been a slab of cold stone.

…**..**

The next day Ghost was awake before dawn. She took her time grooming her fur as she watched the three apprentices sleep, wincing as her tongue scraped over her wounds. The three cats seemed to be about the same age, and there was a similarity in their faces and in the way that they moved which made her suspect they were littermates. Without a doubt, she could get some good information out of them.

Her ear twitched as she heard paw-steps outside the den and a moment later Stormfang's face appeared at the entrance, the gray light of morning casting his features in shadow, but his yellow eyes sliced through the dimness.

He jerked his head at her, and she carefully got up and stalked silently around the three sleeping apprentices. Stormfang looked around cautiously as she emerged from the den and spoke to her in a rushed whisper.

"Wolfclaw will be taking you out to go hunting today. Use this as a chance to study him and learn about the Clan so you can fit in. Don't make a move until I tell you to," he spoke quickly and emphasized that last part, looking sternly into her eyes.

Ghost's tail quivered, feeling the pressure and control he held over her like a storm about to break. It was almost as if he was unaware that he held her fate in his paws. "I won't," she promised solemnly, keeping her expression free of emotion.

Stormfang studied her face for a moment longer, she thought a flicker of annoyance and disappointment flitted over his features, but it was gone before she could properly study it. "Good. From here on out, either I, Blackpoppy, or Tinyfang will instigate all conversation. Don't try to talk to us unless it is absolutely necessary and can be done without rousing suspicion."

Ghost nodded and noticed the guard by the entrance returning into the camp, yawning, from his post and his eyes drifted over to them. Stormfang noticed as well and mewed in a louder, yet appropriate volume for the early morning, "Fog, wake Firepaw for me and tell her to meet me by the entrance for training."

Ghost nodded again and disappeared into the den, noticing the guard had already turned his attention to the large den where his nest probably was. The shadowed apprentice den seemed darker after Ghost had been exposed to the pale gray morning light and she had to find Firepaw by scent.

Leaning over the red she-cat, she nudged the young cat's shoulder with a paw. With a snort, the red she-cat leaped awake, blinking cloudy green eyes at her in alarm and then confusion. "Wha iz'zit?" the apprentice mumbled incoherently and sat back down, rubbing at her eyes with a paw.

"Stormfang asked me to wake you, he's waiting by the entrance," Ghost whispered.

"Mouse-dung!" the apprentice suddenly spat, jumping to her paws again, "I was hoping he'd want to rest today, since he just got back… we always get up earlier than anyone else," the red she-cat sent a jealous look at the other two sleeping apprentices before rushing out of the den with such a flurry that the pale gray tom peeked open one blue eye to glare after Firepaw before snuggling deeper into his nest.

A bit amused, Ghost left the den again and instinctively looked up, but there was nothing except the heavy green pine tree branches and a twinge of anxiety she couldn't stifle floated up. Turning her attention to the shadow bathed camp, she could see cats beginning to stir.

Stormfang and Firepaw had already left. Blackpoppy was speaking with a queen outside the den that smelled of milk and kits, her injured paw lifted delicately off the ground. Two cats were eating together outside the largest den. And in front of the den at the end of the hollow, Wolfclaw and Nettlestar were speaking together.

Her whiskers twitched, she would like to get close enough to listen to what they were saying, but she would have to go join Blackpoppy and the queen, and Stormfang had just ordered her not to talk to him or the others. _That's ridiculous, it'll be more suspicious if I don't communicate with the few cats, I know…_

But Wolfclaw and Nettlestar had finished their conversation as she hesitated whether to take her chances so there was no sense in risking Stormfang's wrath. Based on the meager light that filtered down between the tree branches, dawn seemed to have come, and Ghost watched quietly from her corner as more cats rose and went about the camp.

Two cats came to get the remaining sleeping apprentices and one gave her a polite nod in passing, but that was all. Wolfclaw seemed to have organized most of the cats into groups and had joined one himself, a group of four others and he headed towards the entrance before hesitating.

Busying herself with grooming to not be caught staring, she was pulling at a knot of fur on her flank when Wolfclaw approached her. "Good morning, Fog, are you up for some hunting this morning or would you rather rest? Oakleaf said your wounds should be alright, but you can still take it easy if you like," his voice was accommodating and by studying his face, Ghost couldn't find any hint of annoyance at having to watch over her.

"I would like to come hunting; my wounds don't hurt at all now. Though I'm not confident in my skills in this territory," she mewed apologetically, dipping her head down low.

"Don't worry about it, we can give you some basic lessons if you would like, but I'd rather see your skills first," a barbed look came into his eyes and Ghost decided she would be a sloppy hunter today. Wolfclaw alone didn't seem to have bought her story that she'd defeated the fox through sheer luck.

Ghost gave one last lick to her chest, squinting her eyes as she touched one of her wounds. The herbs Oakleaf had used had taken out most of the sting, but it still felt tender. Maybe she wouldn't need much acting to be a bad hunter today.

"Let's go, we'll be part of a hunting patrol, something I'm sure you're not used to," Wolfclaw mewed, leading her over to the four cats mingling around the entrance.

"I hunted with Tinyfang once while travelling," she offered shyly, scanning Wolfclaw's passive expression.

"Oh yes?" his disinterested expression became even more uninterested and the conversation dropped. He wasn't going to tell her anything he didn't have to, that much was obvious.

"Alright, Fog, this is Brackenfoot, Rosesong, Thrushpelt, and you already know Tinyfang," Wolfclaw introduced her. Ghost hadn't noticed the smaller tom standing behind the others and she gave him a friendly nod which he returned stiffly. Ignoring Tinyfang's obvious awkwardness, Ghost turned her attention to the other three cats.

Brackenfoot looked about as old as Wolfclaw, a golden-brown tom with white paws and blue eyes that contrasted icily with the warm color of his pelt. He stared at her as if she wasn't there and she could smell trouble with this one.

Rosesong and Thrushpelt seemed about the same age, probably about as old as Stormfang was. Rosesong was a dainty red, brown, and white tortoiseshell she-cat with striking amber eyes. A beautiful cat, but the way she tilted her fine head and rose up to her full height to look down at Ghost told her she wasn't welcoming to outsiders.

Thrushpelt, in contrast, was a rather plain looking pale brown tom with darker brown paws and grass-green eyes that shifted nervously from cat to cat. He seemed anxious to please and unsettled by the tense air. Cats like that were unusually loyal and would never repeat rumors or gossip. He was no good for either learning or disseminating information. But he also wasn't likely to bother anyone with his suspicions unless he had solid proof.

With an inward sigh Ghost decided sticking to Wolfclaw was her best bet to learning his weaknesses. Relying on her own powers of observation to tell her how to best take him down.

After they'd gotten through the proper greetings Wolfclaw led them out into the cool pine forest. With a dark green sky of pine branches overhead, the light was dim and the group of six cats moved quietly around the silent forest. Sound was muffled by the thick carpet of pine needles and soft dark dirt. Aside from a few cobwebs with spiders crawling on them, Ghost wasn't seeing much sign of prey.

She was walking on the outside of the patrol, with Tinyfang on the opposite flank. Rosesong walked next to her and didn't once give her a glance. No one talked until they came to a juncture where the path split into three smaller trails.

Wolfclaw turned to them, "Brackenfoot, take Tinyfang and Thrushpelt and head towards ThunderClan to hunt. The dawn patrol reported scents close to the border again, make sure those squirrel-chasers know we're watching them. We'll meet up here again just before sun-high," Wolfclaw growled, his blue eyes stone cold.

Brackenfoot nodded and with a flick of his tail the party split into two and Ghost watched the three cats head along one of the paths that angled more north, if her guess was right. The roof of pine branches made it difficult to judge her exact location. That left Ghost with Rosesong and Wolfclaw. She stifled a sigh, this was a perfect opportunity to take out Wolfclaw, but Stormfang wanted her to wait. _I just want to finish this and go home. _

With a jerk of his head, Wolfclaw led them along a path that careened east. The breeze that rose up as they travelled along the path told her they were heading towards the lake. But Wolfclaw halted before they could see or hear the water and turned towards them, "We'll hunt on our own. Do your best," he mewed. Rosesong darted off in a heartbeat, quickly disappearing behind the pine trees.

Ghost turned toward Wolfclaw, but he just dipped his head apologetically and turned away. She frowned at the hint of guilt in his eyes. He too soon disappeared, and Ghost was left standing all alone amongst the stoic pines, the only breathing thing in sight. A shiver went down her spine and she shook herself to clear her head.

She hadn't seen a single sign of prey all the way out here but given the thickness of the pine trees she was sure there would be plenty of birds if she climbed the trees. She padded to the base of one of pine trees and stood up on her hind legs. The branches were too high to jump to, but the bark was soft enough to dig her front claws into. Using her hind paws to propel herself up, she reached the canopy of branches in a heartbeat and found her hunch was correct.

The scent of birds and squirrels was plentiful, though it was masked by the intense pine scent which made her nose wrinkle. She was amazed at how easily the trees interlocked with each other, it was like walking on the ground with just a few hops here and there. Before long she'd tracked down a robin, a finch, and a sparrow. Her speed made it easy, especially since the birds acted like they'd never seen a cat before. Not like city birds, those things flew away at the sight of their own shadow.

That was a modest catch, and not wanting to show off, she dropped the prey in a pile and kicked pine needles over it before climbing back into the tree canopy. Now she began her real objective.

If she didn't know better, she would assume all the cats hunted like she had. It was much smarter to hunt in trees when most of the prey lived in trees. But given how clumsy Stormfang, Blackpoppy, and Tinyfang had been with trees, she highly doubted many, if any, of the cats hunted in the trees. Which gave her the perfect way to travel around without being noticed. It was too easy.

She now set down to her true objective of this venture and began tracking Wolfclaw. It was a little difficult to track him from the treetops. The scent was masked more by the cloying scent of pines and any tracks or signs of passing were difficult to see from the trees as she peered down through the spiky green needles.

She finally found him; he was carrying two mice by the tails. He dropped them in a pile that consisted of a squirrel and a shrew. Ghost was impressed, he was a pretty good hunter and as he turned away, dropping into a silent stalk, he clearly wasn't done yet. But that wasn't why she was watching him.

She studied his moves, how he observed his surroundings with his ears while he kept his eyes and nose trained on his prey. She watched how he moved slowly, carefully, airing on the side of caution with every move but with a sort of trained decisiveness. He was a careful hunter, but one that moved without doubt. Watching him hunt was one of the best insights she had into his personality, as a hunter's individual technique betrayed the essence of their character.

His experience was his strength, he considered all alternatives, he didn't betray his killing intent, he didn't move until he was sure he was certain of victory. Ghost's chest hurt. He hunted like an experienced assassin. _Is he a cat I can even kill?_

Doubt washed over her. It wasn't something she'd even considered until that moment but watching the way Wolfclaw covered the distance to a vole in a heartbeat, ending the pitiful creature's life with deadly accuracy, she could see a world of difference between their experience levels. This cat wasn't an amateur to killing. And from the way his eyes gleamed, he'd killed more than just prey.

As Ghost sat there, crouched among a wreath or pine branches, watching Wolfclaw's skillful moves with a mixture of killing intent and admiration, she felt a cold chill down her spine. It was just a feeling, but she felt an ominous foreboding feeling about the future.

Without a doubt, this mission would be the most difficult of her entire life.

**...**

**Ahhhhh! I finished the chapter! Been working on this for awhile, sorry _**

**Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be any faster with chapters, in fact, I may be slower (if that's possible) But I'll try to do at least one a month, though they may be shorter chapters if I switch to that. I dunno, we'll see I guess**

**Thank you for reading and I hope you read on!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Happy new years guys! I know it's been awhile, but I've been busy having fun and living life~ But here we go! I hope you haven't forgotten everything that happened in this story... (I did, had to reread what I wrote) and feel free to give me grief for taking so long. I deserve it.**

**On a happier note, thanks so much for the reviews! You're why I feel guilty though so I guess it's a double-edged sword.**

**Anyways, if you bothered to read this story again, I'm really thankful and I hope you enjoy! **

**Chapter VI**

"Is this all you've caught?"

Ghost stared blankly in response, looking down at what seemed to be a respectable catch of three assorted birds. The hunting patrol had met up again and she noticed how she had the least amount of prey out of every cat.

Wolfclaw had the most with seven pieces, the others had four or five pieces each and she only had three. Her fur prickled at the pitying looks they were giving her, dipping her head low she mewed, "I'll do better next time."

"Are your wounds still bothering you?" Brackenfoot mewed, stepping forward with a stern expression to inspect her herb covered wounds.

"Oh no," Ghost stepped back and stiffened as his nose brushed over her fur to sniff for infection, "I'm just not used to needing to catch so much."

Brackenfoot stepped back, his pale blue eyes glinting, "You'll have to get used to it, or else starve," he growled, turning his back on her to pick up his prey again.

Wolfclaw sighed and waved the other cats away from her, "We'll talk about this back at camp, for now, we need to get moving or else none of us will get a break before evening patrols." The deputy signaled for her to follow him at the back of the patrol with a jerk of his head and she fell in step beside him as they followed the pine-needle strewn path back to camp, Brackenfoot in the lead.

The six cats traveled in silence and Ghost sent discrete glances at Wolfclaw, her stomach twisting with that unusual nervousness. As far back as she could remember, she'd never worried about whether she could kill a cat to complete her mission. Not until now.

And it was exciting, like standing out in the rain to watch the lightning flash and feel the thunder shake your insides. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt challenged or afraid. Her mind started turning in excited loops.

First, she would only stand a chance if she could catch him with his guard down… but how to get him to drop it… a distraction? But if there was another cat involved that would make it more difficult to get away with, even if it was Tinyfang or one of the others that helped.

Her tail tip twitched, and her paw steps grew lighter as she became happily absorbed with her thoughts of her how to best kill her target. And as the cloud of fear grew at the back of her thoughts, her excitement increased until she was nearly floating down the trail.

As they neared the camp, Wolfclaw drew her off the trail and away from the others, who gave them only a brief glance back before disappearing into the shadows and brambles of the camp entrance. Wolfclaw, who had given half of his prey for the others to carry, set down the rest of his catch and she did the same, eyeing him warily. What could he want now?

"Fog, I know this is only your first full day here, but Nettlestar has declared that you must follow all of our rules and traditions if you wish to stay. I assume you've learned a little from Stormfang, and the rest we'll teach you as we go along."

The deputy spoke slowly, waiting for her to give a nod before continuing. Why did he seem so hesitant and sorry? "One of our rules regards hunting for our warriors… And I know you aren't a real warrior of the Clan, but this rule will apply to you anyway."

Wolfclaw's blue eyes wavered as she stared back, placid, serene. Playing the part of the innocent and meek rogue that every cat needed to be convinced she was. But the gray tom shook his head at himself, seeming to brace himself.

"The rule is that if a cat goes hunting alone and catches less than 5 pieces of prey, they cannot eat for the rest of the day. And on a hunting patrol, if more than one cat catches less than five pieces of prey, than the one that catches the least or takes the longest to reach the meeting point does not get to eat for the day."

She couldn't help but think that was a stupid rule, but much of what she'd learned from the Clans had seemed silly or unnecessary, but this new information left a bad taste in her mouth. Dipping her head low she responded, "I understand, I will try harder for next time."

Wolfclaw seemed relieved by her response and tapped her shoulder lightly with his tail. "Apprentices are only required to catch three pieces of prey, so you haven't done too badly. I'm willing to train you or find some cat to train you to hunt in this type of terrain if you would like. Although, we mostly train at night."

Ghost nodded, with no intention of being trained by these cats—it was the easiest way for them to learn her fighting quirks- and picked up her prey that she had laid on the ground. Waiting as Wolfclaw picked up his catch and led her back toward the camp, she noticed a strange mark in the paw-depressed ground. _Strange… wouldn't expect a snake so close to a cats' den._

Once in the camp, she tried to ignore the glances that were sent her way, some snobby, some pitying, others seemed unsure. After laying their prey on a full pile of prey Wolfclaw ordered her to rest in her den and that he'd send for her around evening.

Heading over to the den she had spent the night in, she took note of the cats around the clearing, and after comparing the cats she counted by sight and smell, it was clear that there was plenty of prey for every cat to eat well. So, the rule was just to punish the weak and motivate hunters to try their best, not because there was a shortage of food.

Peeking her head in the den, she saw it was empty and decided to lay down in the entrance, not very comfortable in such a confined space and preferring to watch the Clan with her head resting on her outstretched paws.

An old red-brown tom and white she-cat were grooming each other in a tiny patch of sun near a den, Tinyfang and Brackenheart were discussing something by the fresh-kill pile and a couple of other cats were laying around, sharing a meal.

Ghost stiffened as she felt a shiver run down her spine, as if a cold wind had suddenly blown over her. But the needles of the pine trees were still. Her eyes darted around, scanning the shadows of the clearing. No cat was paying any attention to her, but she could feel a pair of eyes on her, piercingly cold.

And then it was gone, like a shadow that had passed over the sun and now the warmth returned, leaving the cold moment as nothing but a fading memory. _That felt similar to on the hills…_ This feeling had lacked the murderous intent, but the paralyzing coldness was the same.

Her tensed muscles relaxed, but her ears were still pricked as she scanned for the source of that chill. No other cat seemed to be bothered and the low hubbub continued around the camp. Looking around, she caught the eye of a blue-gray she-cat who immediately turned her head, looking flustered as she spoke to the tom next to her which Ghost recognized as Oakleaf.

Ghost shrugged, there had only been curiosity in the she-cat's yellow gaze, she wasn't the source of the chill. And she didn't think she was going to find it until she sensed it again. Sitting up to give her fur a quick grooming, she kept her ears pricked for snippets of conversation to learn more about the cats she was living with. And some of whom she'd be killing.

Three warriors were eating and talking in grumbled tones about traces of rogue cat scents on their territory, mentioning how they'd love to tear the fur off those trespassing flea pelts. Two of her den mates, Fogpaw and Firepaw, were practicing battle moves and weren't doing much talking at all.

The older cats she'd spotted earlier were drawling about how they could feel this leaf-bare would be the coldest since they were kits. And the expecting queen she'd noticed earlier had walked up to Oakleaf and the gray she-cat she'd caught staring to complain about aches in her back and legs.

_Nothing interesting. _Her paws itched; these cats were far more boring than city cats. She wondered how Robin was doing, were all the queens and kits doing alright? She wondered if Lily's kits had learned how to hunt yet, she half-hoped they'd still be there when she got back so she could catch a glimpse one last time. Had any more cats come to the shelter? They had been nearly full when she'd left, she hoped Rowan and his cats were catching enough prey for them.

And what about the gangs? After she'd killed that officer, she doubted they'd be making any big moves, and Rowan would probably wait for her return and the help of these cats to begin his conquest. _Rowan._ She hadn't thought of him all day, but now his confident and warm green eyes burned in her mind and she felt a flutter in her stomach as she curled her claws.

Here in this foreign camp, her home seemed as far away as the distant stars in the night sky, and yet it had only been a few days since she'd left the city. She'd never been so homesick, and she longed for the soft voice of Robin and Rowan's warmth. _Finish the mission, go home. And you'll never have to live like this again. _

"Hey, Wolfclaw said you had to help us," a grumpy mew snapped her from her feverish thoughts, and she jerked her head up, messing up the fur she'd been grooming as she did so.

The two apprentices that had been practicing battle moves stood in front of her, Fogpaw hanging back and occupying himself by studying one of the millions of pine needles on the ground. Firepaw stared at her hotly through amber eyes flaring in defiance as her tail twitched.

Ghost softened her demeanor, becoming the docile Fog she was supposed to be. "How can I help you?" she asked sweetly, hearing a hint of Robin in her voice, which caused her to twitch her whiskers in amusement. _So much for a break… or that Wolfclaw would come talk to me._ She'd rather spend the rest of her day studying her quarry than helping two young cats that obviously thought little of her.

Firepaw didn't seem to appreciate her gesture and snapped back, "Just because Stormfang wanted to reward you for your help doesn't mean you're special. In fact, I heard you caught the least amount of prey on the patrol this morning," her amber eyes gleamed, "You're going to end up starving here if you don't do better."

Ghost wanted to claw the haughty she-cat over the ears, but that would be no good. "I'm sorry, I'll try harder."

Firepaw snorted and turned away, "Whatever, the only one who's really sorry is you. _You_ are the one who is going to go hungry."

_Oh, it'll take a lot more than skipping one day of food to make me hungry. _

Ghost got to her paws and padded after the two apprentices as they headed towards the entrance to the camp. "What are we doing?" she asked innocently as they brushed through the narrow bramble tunnel into the pine tree studded forest.

"Moss. The elders and Deerheart need new nests, and we have to gather a lot of moss for Deerheart, since her kits are due any day now," Fogpaw answered her, giving her a quick glance over his shoulder. His glazed blue eyes hid his emotions but the fur prickling along his shoulders showed he was uncomfortable with a stranger.

"I hope you've gathered moss before at least," Firepaw asked, not bothering to look behind her as she leaped over a fallen log gracefully, her ginger fur rippling under her developing muscles.

Ghost followed, balancing on top of the log to survey her surroundings briefly, swaying a little to not look too well-balanced. "There's not a lot of moss where I'm from," she admitted, "But I have used it to make nests before." It was true, the sparse amount of moss growing in the city on stone and trees was usually foul smelling, but she'd often gather moss from the forests to make disposable nests for the queens with younger kits who couldn't travel to the dirt place.

Firepaw muttered something under her breath but the three cats travelled mostly in silence through the somber forest and they soon reached a mossy clearing. Ghost took a moment to test the springy moss under paw, it was softer than any she'd seen and there was so much of it that a tinge of jealousy sprang up in her, she wished she could take this whole clearing back home, the kits would love to play on it.

"Get to work! We don't have all day, I have night patrol tonight," Firepaw snapped, already a sizable pile next to her. Fogpaw was also scrapping the moss up, pulling large swatches of the plant up from the ground.

Ghost sat down and began as well, arching her claws and pulling carefully. She thought back to when she was a kit and her father had told her to claw up patches of moss until her claws bled. She'd fallen asleep in the foresy and her mother and brother had curled around her where she'd slept to keep her warm.

She felt a sting in her claws at the memory and without realizing it, she'd clawed up moss so fast she had a larger pile than the two apprentices in half the time. Fogpaw looked at the pile impressed and with a hint of embarrassment at his own smaller pile.

"Great, how are you going to carry all that back to camp now?" Firepaw asked, her tone sharp as stone.

Ghost dipped her head, "Sorry, I'll carry it all," she mewed, beginning to roll the moss into bundles and squeezing the moisture out in the process. But in the end, she had to have the apprentices layer a couple moss swaths on her back, shivering as the moisture trickled through her fur onto her skin.

"Well, at least we won't have to come out again," Firepaw muttered, grabbing her own bundles, holding one tucked between her chin and chest and one in her mouth. The ginger apprentice took the lead and Fogpaw followed half a step behind her.

Ghost allowed a bit of distance between herself and the apprentices, thoroughly worn out of the she-cat's bratty comments and the tom's pensive expressions as if she were a strange bug he'd never seen before.

Looking around at the dark canopy of pines above her and the carpet of pine needles beneath her paws, she realized she was beginning to get used to her new environment, the darkness didn't bother her and the closed in sky didn't leave her feeling so suffocating, although she certainly couldn't wait until she could watch the sunset from her favorite rooftop again, hopefully with Rowan or Robin beside her.

Her ears pricked at a slight rustling sound, like the sound of wings gliding through leaves, except it was down low to the ground. Looking ahead, neither of the apprentices seemed to have noticed anything, their senses seemingly fixed on her with their ears turned back towards her.

There was not change in scent and the sound had stopped, but the sound had echoed in her head as one associated with a potent memory of hers. _I hope I'm wrong, but…_ Hurrying forward past the apprentices, she dropped her moss and blocked the way of the two apprentices with her body.

Fogpaw glared at her and Firepaw dropped her moss to spit and hiss at her. But Ghost wasn't listening, senses focused on a slight lump in the pine floor. Dropping into a stalk she crept across the pine forest floor, hardly noticing the annoyed looks the apprentices were giving her. _There it is!_

As soon as she'd spotted it, the snake lunged for her at an incredible speed, even faster than the fox the other day. She twisted and dodged, feeling the snake's tail whip past her. With a nimble twist on her back paws, she pounced on the snake right behind the head and bit down as hard as she could, feeling the skull crack and blood and another warm liquid drip into her mouth.

Dropping the snake and spitting out the blood and venom that had leaked into her mouth, she looked down in disgust at the black and brown zig-zag pattern on the snake's body. "An adder," she muttered, shivering and spitting again in disgust.

"Wow! I've never seen a cat kill an adder before! That was amazing!" Firepaw's pretentious demeanor melted and excitement bubbled in her words as she hopped warily towards the dead snake.

Ghost stared at the limp snake for a moment more before blinking and licking a paw, drawing it over her ears as she looked around again. _This time of year, adders huddle together for warmth… though this isn't really their favorite territory to begin with. Is it the same one that left the mark near camp?_

She frowned, circling around their area for a moment, she hoped there wasn't an adder den here. "How'd you know it was there?" Firepaw interrupted her scouting, the fluffy red she-cat hopped around her, all former nastiness seemingly forgotten.

Ghost flicked an ear, "I heard it, but I think that was just luck," she mewed meekly, widening her eyes and facing the young cats as Fogpaw joined the other apprentice.

"Nettlestar says there is no such thing as luck, only skill," the gray apprentice was looking at her with wide blue eyes. "You moved so fast I hardly saw you."

Fur prickling uneasily, Ghost dipped her head, "I think I was so scared I moved faster than I usually can, I always used to be called a scardey-mouse," she gave a nervous purr of laughter. Fogpaw didn't look convinced but didn't press further.

"Let's take the snake back to camp and show everyone!" Firepaw mewed, trotting around the dead diamond-patterned snake, tail high in the sky.

Ghost stiffened, "Please don't," she pleaded, looking at the apprentices beseechingly. "I don't like attention… and I'm afraid they'll expect more from me if they know."

The apprentices glanced at each other, "You did catch the least amount of prey this morning," Fogpaw murmured, exchanging a glance with Firepaw.

"But it'd be a waste to just leave it here," Firepaw looked down at the snake in disappointment. "It'd be so cool to show the others," she sighed.

Ghost frowned for a moment; it would be a waste to bring it to camp. "How about we bury it somewhere we remember and then after the cold season if you want you can dig up again after I'm gone," she mewed.

"It'll probably be nasty by then, but I guess we can try if you're sure you don't want to show every cat," Fogpaw mewed with a shrug. Firepaw still looked dubious but didn't protest as Ghost dragged the snake to a tree a little bit off the trail with a fern bush beneath it and quickly buried the snake beneath the cold, pine-covered earth. Looking at the dark pine tree she unsheathed her claws and quickly ran them over the trunk, grimacing at how soft the bark was. She preferred rougher wood that would really sharpen her claws.

"I'll make this my scratching tree so then you'll be able to find it no problem," Ghost turned to face the apprentices who had picked up their moss again and some of hers as well.

"Now yo ack on't get et," Firepaw mumbled around her mouthful of moss. Ghost purred and picked up her moss, glad to not have to carry anymore damp moss on her shoulders.

The snake attack already fading in the young cats' minds, they led her back to camp with cheerful steps, their atmosphere more welcoming than before. Ghost was thinking back to the snake though, the tightness in her muscles betrayed to herself how much it had startled her, at least the fear part to the apprentices hadn't been a lie.

She shivered as if a chill had hit her, she hadn't seen an adder in a long time, there were mostly harmless green snakes that sometimes lived in the garden outside the shelter. But she knew all too well how quickly an adder could strike though. And she reburied the memory again as she pushed through the gorse barrier into the Clan cat's camp.

Clouds had moved in and the dim gray light was even dimmer beneath the canopy of pine branches and a damp chill hung over the forest. Ghost was sure rain was on the way and it made her feel sleepy.

But no other cat seemed to be affected by the weather. Despite it getting later in the day, cats were still coming in and out of camp, organizing patrols, sharing tongues, or going from one den to another with hurried steps.

With that same hurried pace, the apprentices led her to the den that laid in between the apprentices' den and the den that smelled of milk and kits. The den was the one she'd seen the older cats sitting outside of earlier, so she guessed this was the elders' den for whom some of the moss was for.

It was a simple construction of gorse, almost an extension of the barrier that encircled the entire camp. Fogpaw paused outside the entrance, "I'll take care of the nursery and you two take care of the elders."

Firepaw glared at her den-mate, "The nursery is easier and cleaner! Why do you get to do it?"

Fogpaw drew up to his full height of half a whisker taller than Firepaw. "I'm better at making nests than you and Deerheart is expecting any day, so she needs a good nest. Besides, you made her nest last time, it's my turn."

"No! Owlpaw did the nursery last time, I haven't done it in over a moon!"

Ghost sighed, this didn't seem like it was ending anytime soon, and she didn't want to be standing around when it started raining. Pushing quietly into the den, she blinked her eyes to get adjusted to the dim light and had to duck to avoid getting her eyes clawed out.

"Oh wait, you're that new cat that Stormfang brought back ain't ya? Sorry about that," the attacker, a dusty red-brown tom with a bushy tail and missing teeth, sat back into the nest she had nearly stepped on.

"I thought you were an invader," he mumbled, curling back down in his nest.

"Your sense of smell is nearly as bad as your sight! We all saw her earlier today, how you could mistake her?" the grouchy voice came from a nest in the back of the den where an old blue-gray cat that had her eyes closed, tail tip twitching lazily in front of her nose.

"Enough you two, it seems this young cat has some fresh moss for us," the final resident of the den, a stunningly white she-cat with deep blue eyes mewed. Even old, Ghost was impressed by her beauty and felt a sting of jealousy that she quickly stifled. _Looks won't win fights or feed bellies. _

She dropped her moss, "Yes, sorry for disturbing you. I think Firepaw or Fogpaw will be coming too, but they were discussing something."

"Humph, you mean arguing about nonsense again. Well, I just hope you brought drier moss than what they usually find," the blue she-cat was grumbling again, peeking open a single green eye that sliced through the dimness with unusual fire.

"I hope it's dry enough." Her tail twitched, the queens at the shelter had never complained, in fact, they'd been nothing but grateful as far as she knew. But these cats looked a bit touchy.

"But not too dry, or it's too prickly," the red-brown tom added, turning his head to give his shaggy pelt a few licks.

"Why don't you tell me…" Ghost mewed, holding the moss up to the elderly tom. He touched it with his muzzle and his nose wrinkled.

"I suppose that will do… but make sure you take out all those bits of twigs or I'll bite your tail off and feed it to old Clovereye over there." The blue-gray she-cat hissed at the tom but didn't speak as Ghost sat down to start pulling the miniscule bits of debris from the moss. _I can barely see it; I doubt you could feel it… but it's not like I have anything better to do. _

Ghost finished picking out the twigs and specks of dirt and began gather up the old bedding, using her muzzle and front paws to roll the moss tightly while trying to avoid bumping the cantankerous elders.

"That stupid Fogpaw… thinks he's in charge just 'cause he was born first," Firepaw came in, muttering and eyes shooting anger as she glared around the den.

"Hold it there, leave your bad attitude outside the den, we don't need you throwing a fit like a kit," the blue-gray elder, Clovereye, mewed sternly.

Firepaw glared back and lifted her nose in the air with the haughtiness she had been showing to Ghost earlier that day. "I don't know what you're talking about, your sight must be as rotten as your breath."

Ghost looked at the apprentice sharply as the elders started growling. _Does she not have any respect for any cat? _"Firepaw, I've already started gathering up the old bedding, do you want to lay down the fresh moss while I take the old bedding away?"

Firepaw looked at her, the defiance waning in her gaze before she shrugged, "Fine, since your paws are already dirty anyways… let's get this over with."

They worked in tense silence for a spell as Ghost gathered the old moss and then followed Firepaw's directions to drop it off in the dirt-place which she found more by scent than the apprentice's vague description.

When she returned to the elders den, the moss beds were nearly complete and the elders had begun curling down in their new nests to try them out. "Since you're here, may as well look for ticks… I've been feeling an inch I can't quite get," the red tom mewed, opening one eye to meet Firepaw's hot look.

The red she-cat made a face, "I'm sure Fog will be able to help you with that." Ghost stalked past the apprentice and whacked her ears with her tail.

"I'll check the other two for ticks, you help him," she ordered, walking toward the white she-cat who seemed to be the friendliest of the elders.

The stunned silence that followed made her fur ruffle, _mouse-dung, hanging around these bratty apprentices all day made me forget I'm supposed to be sweet and gentle. This is why I hate infiltration missions._

"Sorry, I lost patience," she blurted out, whirling around to face Firepaw, "I meant it would be faster if the two of us did it together and I'd like your help." That seemed to appease to red apprentice who nodded and immediately began nosing through the tom's fur, looking for the infamous tick.

Ghost gave an imperceptible sigh before using her paws to start searching the white elder's soft fur. _She seems kind of young for an elder… _But the silver hairs on her muzzle betrayed her true age as Ghost continued the tick hunt.

"Got it!" Firepaw's victorious mew was followed by a crack as she snapped the bothersome insect in between her teeth and spat it out into the gorse den wall. "I'm all done, see you later!" the apprentice left faster than a flash of lightning and Ghost's tail twitched irritably. _She could have stayed and helped with Clovereye if she finished so fast. _

"What is happening to this Clan? A rogue has more dignity and respect than our apprentices," Clovereye grumbled, glaring at the entrance where Firepaw had disappeared.

"That's what you get with a leader like Nettlestar. Anyone who's weak is a burden that should be let go. I'm almost surprised Nettlestar hasn't kicked us out. Never mind that without us there wouldn't even be a ShadowClan today," the tom grumbled bitterly.

"Lionstar may not have been the fiercest leader ever, but he cared for every cat in the Clan and always put the Clan first," the white elder mewed softly, staring at the ground as if pained by a memory.

"You must miss him, Whiteflame, but at least no cat is starving to death like they did under his reign," Clovereye answered swiftly.

"Doesn't matter when cats are dying in battle every moon," the old tom muttered, glaring at the gray elder.

Clovereye sat up in her nest, "That's a bit of an exaggeration, Foxtail. No cat has died since Petalpaw two moons ago."

"No, but Frogleap got exiled last moon and hasn't come back yet," the tom growled, green eyes flaring.

"He failed three assessments in a row, those are the rules. Hopefully he'll be stronger when he comes back," Clovereye reasoned.

"This is a Clan!" Foxtail nearly shouted, standing up in his nest with his fur fluffed up to twice his sides and lips curled back in a snarl. Ghost shifted anxiously, claws unsheathing instinctively.

"We're not rogues, we protect the weak! And those assessments are ridiculously difficult, any warrior would have trouble passing every single one. When I was a young warrior, I know I couldn't defeat a senior warrior every single time in battle. What he needed was more training, not expulsion!"

Clovereye didn't respond, a hint of pain coming into her eyes as she looked away. "But if every cat is strong enough, then we won't have to worry about them dying in battle," her voice cracked, and she curled back down in her nest.

Foxtail stared at his denmate before letting his fur lay flat and sat down in his own nest, looking older and more exhausted than before as if his outburst had stolen all his energy. "I'm sorry they got so worked up, don't you worry about that," the white cat mewed, looking back at her with her dizzying dark blue eyes.

"Oh, right, sorry," she murmured, realizing that she had stopped searching for ticks to watch the cats argue. "They seemed to have strong opinions on the matter," she whispered, instinctively wanting to be quiet.

"Well, not every cat is happy with the way things are, that's obvious. But we're a Clan and we must be loyal to our leader no matter what. Though, I'm sure that sounds silly to a foreigner."

_It sure does… and I'm guessing that means Stormfang, Blackpoppy, and Tinyfang are alone in their endeavor if even cats that are upset with things wouldn't think of disobeying their leader. _She wondered why the clan was like this, if they didn't like the leader, couldn't they just leave? Or pick a different one?

Killing was popular for rival gangs to use against each other, but even with their ruthless tactics, she'd only been given a pawful of assassination jobs for cats that were part of the same gang that had hired her.

_Well, it doesn't matter why. I don't care why they hate Nettlestar or what any cat wants. I'll kill Wolfclaw and then Nettlestar, and any other cat that gets in the way, just like I agreed. Then I'll go back to the city and Rowan and I will end the violence in the city. That's the real battle, this is just a side fight. _

Her thoughts calmed her, and she finished searching for ticks in Whiteflame's fur, crushing two fleas and a single tick in her search. "I think you're clean," she mewed, stepping away from the elderly she-cat.

"Thank you, that does feel better. But it's getting late and Clovereye is already asleep so you can just skip her. If she complains I'll search her over, my eyes are still good," Whiteflame purred, so softly and sweetly that Ghost was stunned for a moment and warmth filled her as her mother's face flashed in her mind.

"Alright then, thank you, do you want something to eat?" she asked as she headed for the entrance.

"Oh yes please, I didn't have much at sun-high, a little snack would fill my belly up before I go to sleep."

Ghost nodded and trotted out the entrance of the elder's den and fluffed her fur up, shocked by how much colder it was outside the den. A light mist sprayed her face and she saw that the clearing was abandoned, except for a guard by the entrance.

The light was dark gray, signaling that it must be nearing twilight and she quickly hurried over to the fresh-kill pile that had been covered by large pine branches to keep the food dry. She snatched a squirrel that looked dry and fresh and used her paws to reposition the pine branches before trotting briskly back to the elder's den.

"Oh, that looks delicious," the white she-cat sighed, dark blue eyes lighting up in the dimness of the den. "But it's too much for me to eat on my own and my den mates are asleep, would you mind sharing it with me?"

Ghost flicked an ear, Wolfclaw had told her she wasn't supposed to eat today, and she wasn't even hungry yet. But it was warmer and more comfortable here than the den she shared with the bratty apprentices and it would be a waste to not finish food and have it go spoiled.

"Alright," she dipped her head in agreement and they shared the meal in silence, with Whiteflame eating most of it and Ghost finishing the scraps. She licked her lips when she had finished, it was tastier than the ones back in the city, but also hairier and she had to pick the hairs from her teeth with her claws.

"Thank you for the food, I'll be going to my own den now," she mewed, dipping her head to the elder.

"Of course, anytime. You seem nice for a loner, I would enjoy it if you come back sometime soon," Whiteflame mewed, but Ghost was perturbed by the hint of amusement in the she-cat's blue eyes.

Giving a noncommittal mutter, Ghost exited the den into the now nearly pitch-black clearing. The wind had picked up, whipping the mist into her face as she lowered her head against the rain and turned towards the apprentice den. She'd padded a few steps when she lifted her head again and unsheathed her claws.

Wolfclaw sat before her, mostly hidden by the shelter of the backside of the apprentice's den and shielded by the darkness. "I see that you broke our rules and ate a meal,' his growl could have come from a dog for how guttural and ferocious it sounded.

"I was invited for a meal, it would have been rude to refuse," she defended herself meekly on the outside, but on the inside, she was highly irritated. _Couldn't it wait till morning when it's not raining? Is it even a big deal, I had a couple mouthfuls of scraps that would have only gone to waste otherwise. I didn't deprive anyone of anything. _

Wolfclaw stalked from his spot and loomed over her. He seemed bigger than before. "Disobeying the rules is far ruder. But I won't report this to Nettlestar on the condition that you don't breathe a word about what the elders said. They talk nonsense and I don't want their gossip going around camp. Do we have a deal?"

Ghost observed the intimidating look in Wolfclaw's blue eyes and flicked the water from her ear with a paw, _he's bluffing, he's got a different reason for wanting me to be quiet. But it doesn't even matter. _"Okay, I won't," she mewed, dipping her head, "Now, if that's it…" she mewed quietly, brushing past the tom softly, but she couldn't help but catch his eye as she passed him and gave the slightest hint of a snarl. _You're showing your vulnerabilities to me, not smart. _

Once in the apprentices' den, she sneaked past the three apprentices, flicking a few drops of water onto the loudly snoring Firepaw, _thought you had night patrol, liar._ She sighed before climbing into her own nest, grooming her fur until it was dry. _Wolfclaw won't be around for much longer, I think. _

…**..**

Alone beneath the dark pines Ghost padded, her steps not making a sound in the somber silence of the gloomy forest where fog drifted between the lines of pine trees. She walked onward, not knowing why but knowing she must.

A weight pressed at her back as if pushing her forward and the landscape blurred past her as she continued onward at a dizzying pace toward the black horizon that never got closer. Coldness flowed through her like the breath of snow and the soft ground was stabbing at her paws.

With a gasp she skidded to a halt at the edge of a cliff with a dark pit beneath. A multitude of glowing yellow eyes glared up at her and the soft hisses of snakes floated up to her ears as she watched the forked tongues of the snakes' flicker in the darkness.

A shriek to her left jolted her as she whipped her head around and found herself in a familiar clearing full of lush grass and colorful flowers. The tip of a diamond patterned tail was slithering through the grass away from a small kit with pale gray fur that writhed and twisted in pain, plaintive mews coming from the helpless creature.

As she took a step toward the kitten, the scenery changed again, and she found herself standing in the clearing of the ShadowClan camp. The camp was deserted except for a lone gray figure with rain lashing his pelt. But he stood stoically, blue eyes watching her with an unreadable expression. But one thing was for sure, he was waiting for her. Right now, he was the hunter, not her.

With a gasp, Ghost awoke from the dream and sat bolt upright in her nest, sides shivering as she took gulps of air as if she'd just breached the surface of a lake after nearly drowning. Blinking, she lifted a paw to her neck and found the fang bites in her skin.

She shuddered at the memory of being bitten, and her eyes wandered around the dark den absently as she recalled her father carrying her roughly by the scruff and tossing her through the air nearly on top of the snake so that it would bite her. He'd been testing to see if she'd built up enough poison tolerance to survive an adder's bite, the most venomous snake of the forest.

She'd barely survived, but after she'd recovered, her father had her bitten again and again until she no longer suffered at all from the poison. She was immune. No snake or poison could harm her now, but the memory made her feel hollow. The fear, the dread, and helplessness… it made her mind feel numb.

Stretching and stepping outside her nest, she quietly padded past the sleeping apprentices to the den's entrance. It had been several days since she'd killed the snake, why had she had that dream now? Milky white light drifted down between the pine branches and sparkled on the frost that was forming on the pine needle carpet. Morning wasn't too far off.

A rustling caught her attention and she instinctively backed up into the shadows of the den, peering through the den wall to watch. Wolfclaw had left Nettlestar's den and was padding toward the entrance, the tip of his tail twitching in agitation. She watched him mew a few words to the guard at the entrance—it looked like Stormfang—before disappearing out the entrance.

Ghost's claws itched. This was it, the perfect opportunity to kill Wolfclaw. Going out alone at this time of night, she'd be in her element as fog rolled in from the lake to make the kill. But would Stormfang approve? She'd had no communication with any of the cats that had hired her since that first day, how long did they want her to wait here?

Getting to her paws determinedly, she stalked towards Stormfang, making sure she was hidden in the shadows so that any early risers wouldn't notice her. "What are you doing?" Stormfang growled, glaring at her.

She returned his gaze, "I was going to follow Wolfclaw," she whispered.

Stormfang growled, "No, it's too risky. Not yet."

Ghost's tail flicked, "I won't take any risks, but if there's an opportunity, I'll take it." Stormfang pinned back his ears and opened his mouth but she cut him off. "I'm here for a job," she hissed, thrusting her muzzle in his face, "Trust me to do it and it'll get done, you can be sure of that."

Stormfang glared at her, "I won't defend you if you get caught."

Ghost raised her muzzle, "I wouldn't want you to. That goes for the other two as well." With that she stalked past him and just barely caught his last mumbled words.

"Good luck." _Yeah, I'm gonna need it. _This was it; her heart was fluttering. She'd been studying Wolfclaw for the past few days and knew fully how capable he was. This very well could end in disaster if she made the tiniest of mistakes. But she licked her lips and she slipped into the shadows of the forest, the thrill of danger was the only thing that made this job worth doing and she wouldn't dream of passing up her biggest challenge in seasons. _I hope you're ready Wolfclaw… this is going to be fun. _

**...**

**That was a long chapter... but quite a bit happened! I hope you guys enjoyed and I'm gonna try hard to get the next one out much sooner. But school is already starting soon and I just got a new job so things are hectic and there are no promises except that I will finish this eventually. **

**I have to promise that or else I probably wouldn't finish it. **

**Anyways, what do you guys think of it so far? I worry its going too fast or slow or that the characters aren't developing enough. Especially since we haven't hardly seen Stormfang, Blackpoppy, or Tinyfang in the past two chapters...**

**I appreciate all criticism, even just plain bashing so long as it isn't vulgar, (I will delete or report- comments have to be PG) **

**Seriously, bash me, I deserve it. I'll bash myself too since I know I'm handling Ghost poorly... I feel like I'm writing three different characters when I write her, but maybe that's just 'cause she's so complex. **

**After spending five minutes writing my rambling, I'm going to say goodbye until next time! And since I feel bad, I'll probably start answering reviews next chapter unless I change my mind. (I love making promises I won't keep. Jkjk)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello there! Good to see you again, thanks for coming back or welcome if you just decided to read this today!**

**I'm very proud of myself right now, since its only been three weeks since the last update! (I remember a time when I sometimes updated ever 3 days... those were the times)**

**Thanks to everyone who read this and special thanks to our one reviewer last chapter! I said I'd respond to the reviews from last chapter, so this is going to be really easy.**

**REVIEW (there was only 1)**

**'Foxeh'- I'm glad you think so! Since it's been a pretty slow updating story I try to jam as much into the chapters as possible but I worry that I'm not developing things as much as I usually do. I'm glad you're interested and you like how it's going, I hope I can keep you feeling that way!**

**And now, on to the story!**

**Chapter VII**

Heart pounding in her chest, Ghost flitted from tree branch to tree branch, silently following the shadowy figure in the distance. She paused every time his ears twitched, or he hesitated to survey his surroundings.

_Control your breathing… minimize your presence… _Carefully controlling her breathing, she banished every thought or emotion from her mind except for thoughts of completing the task before her.

The fog was thickening between the dark green pine trees as Ghost pushed through the thick needles to follow Wolfclaw deeper into the forest. _The fog will dissipate as soon as the sun rises, I should catch him before then. _

Paws sliding along the smooth pine bark, she leapt from tree branch to tree branch, belly close to the bark and ears pinned back with her tail wrapped around her legs to minimize movement. She felt like a snake as she slid from tree to tree, eyes focused on her quarry.

She wished she knew where Wolfclaw was headed, then she could get ahead of him and plan an ambush. But he was loping along on a poorly used trail and hadn't stopped once to search for prey or check for scents except to see if he was being followed. _What's out here? He's not even headed towards the other Clan's borders… he's heading into non-Clan territory. _

Wolfclaw suddenly stopped ahead of her, ears pricked and nose to the air on high alert. Ghost shrunk against the trunk of the tree she was in, hiding her body along the shadowy side but where her gray eyes could keep watch on him. Had he noticed her?

An ice-cold chill ran through her, a frightful sensation that went straight to her heart and made her heart skip a beat. It was like what she'd felt on the hillside that surveyed the lake and in the camp a few days ago.

Trembling and resisting her instincts to flee, she scrutinized her surroundings. Whatever was leaking such toxic danger had to be strong. But at the same time, it didn't seem to be directed at her or anything, it was simply hanging there to intimidate. _But who or what?_

Turning her attention back to Wolfclaw, it was clear he had sensed something was odd as well, even though the Clan cats hadn't seemed as sensitive to these sensations as she was. The gray tom's blue eyes were flashing around, a hint of anxiety in the cool depths and even from this distance she could tell his fur was ruffled.

This was the best scenario she could have hoped for. All Wolfclaw's senses were focused on this other threat and he was wide open to her hidden presence. She could see it in her head, it would take three heartbeats for her to close the distance of two pine tree canopies and she could drop down on him and break his neck before he could even react.

But her paws wouldn't move; she was frozen stiff in fear. Whatever was out there was probably a lot stronger than her, and with it being such an unknown threat she couldn't bring herself to act. In fact, it was highly possible that it would simply kill Wolfclaw for her.

_Don't engage when there is an unknown element, fall back and try again. _Her father's voice rang in her head and Ghost abruptly turned her back on Wolfclaw, senses still seeking the source of the threatening aura, and took off through the treetops.

_If you make it back Wolfclaw, I'll be sure to kill you next time. And as for that presence… I hope it won't cause me any problems. _

…

"Wolfclaw still looks very much alive."

Ghost glanced up from her half-finished meal and looked across the clearing where Wolfclaw was in conversation with Brackenfoot and Blackpoppy. "There was a complication," she grumbled, facing Stormfang.

The gray tom didn't seem upset that Wolfclaw wasn't dead, instead, he almost seemed gloating? _Doesn't he want him dead? Or would he rather see me, and his plans, fail. _"I thought you said I should trust you to do your job," Stormfang's piercing yellow gaze stared down at her, unmoving and scathing.

Taking a deep breath to dissipate the scowl she could feel forming, she stretched her forelegs and sat up straight. "I said I would try to find an opportunity. Just because it hasn't come yet doesn't mean I've failed anything."

Stormfang's tail lashed behind him, "If you'd listened to me you wouldn't even have taken that risk. Next time, don't do anything until I tell you to."

The tom stalked away, joining Blackpoppy who seemed to be testing her injured paw out under the deputy's and senior warrior's watchful gaze. Stormfang's expression when speaking with Wolfclaw was a picture of sincerity and sentiment.

_He's a good schemer at least, not the slightest hint that we were talking about killing Wolfclaw a few moments ago. _ Ghost finished her meal quickly, weary from the day's routine. After her early morning attempt at assassination, she'd returned to camp and been put on border patrol which mainly entailed trekking around the cold forest and sniffing a lot of trees.

After that, she'd had to fetch moss for the medicine-cats and then had gone out hunting with a patrol, managing to catch the required five pieces fairly easily but had made sure to be the last one back and apologize excessively, which was probably the most exhausting part of the day.

Using a paw to straighten her whiskers she looked around the dim, damp camp. The rain had moved out by sun-high, but heavy clouds had kept the forest in darkness all day and now as the sun began to set the dark and cold atmosphere pressed in even more.

"You'll be fine, don't worry about it!"

"All three of us are about as strong as each other and we both passed ours."

"Thanks… but I know I'm not as strong as you two are."

Ghost raised her head as the voices approached where she sat just outside the apprentices' den under an overhang of gorse from the barrier. The three apprentices were trotting towards her and Firepaw and Fogpaw seemed to be trying to comfort the third member of their consort.

Owlpaw was the third littermate of the bunch and could definitely be called the runt. She was shorter and less muscular than the other two and she clearly lacked the confidence or ambition that Ghost had noticed in Fogpaw and Firepaw.

Ghost caught the apprentices' eye as they approached her, and she stood to greet them. "What are you talking about?" she asked, noticing how Owlpaw lingered behind her littermates, unsure of this new den mate.

"Owlpaw has an assessment tonight and she say she's going to fail," Firepaw answered, a tint of annoyance in her gaze as she looked back at her sister.

The tortoiseshell shifted her white paws, green eyes shifting from one cat to the next. "But I failed my last one too, if I fail this one Silverfern will punish me even more," Owlpaw's round eyes looked imploringly at her two littermates but they both averted their gazes.

"Sorry Owlpaw, but we can't do the assessment for you, you're going have to manage on your own. We already cover for you enough as it is," Firepaw mewed. Fogpaw hissed at those words and glanced at Ghost worryingly.

"For the love of StarClan! Keep your voice down if you're going to say that," he cuffed his paws over Firepaw's ears angrily to which she responded with a huff.

"What do you mean, 'cover'?" Ghost asked, eyeing the few other cats in the clearing—no one seemed to be paying attention to them.

Fogpaw growled and nudged Firepaw, "You slipped up, you explain."

Firepaw scowled at her two littermates before turning to her, "You know the rule about catching enough prey to eat, right? We help Owlpaw by giving her our extra prey, without us, she'd starve every night."

Ghost frowned, "But you three are still learning right? What did you do when you were first made apprentices, did you already know how to hunt?"

Fogpaw shook his head, "We're not held to the rule until two moons into our apprenticeship, and this is our fourth moon, but now we have to catch at three pieces each hunt or we don't get to eat until the next day. It's pretty easy when the weather is warm but as it gets colder…"

"It's more difficult, I feel sorry for the weak hunters. Once the snow comes, they'll be starving every night," Firepaw sniffed, a hint of worry in her gaze as she glanced at her panicking sister.

"Maybe Nettlestar will lower the standard," Fogpaw suggested as Owlpaw's eyes rounded in worry.

_Hopefully, or else they're right, the entire Clan could starve. Five pieces of prey is fine for now, but it'll be much more difficult when the snow sets in. _"Anyways, what is this assessment that you're so worried about?" Ghost asked, turning to the apprentices with a gentle expression.

"It's a fighting assessment. And I'm even worse at fighting than I am at hunting," the apprentice looked like she wanted to lay down and wail. "When Silverfern sees how pathetic I am she'll make me spend every night training and every day hunting, I won't ever get a chance to rest."

Ghost blinked, noticing for the first time the rings of exhaustion in the apprentice's eyes. It was true that she had noticed Owlpaw not in the den a couple of nights and rarely saw her around the camp. She thought back to her own training with her father, she had trained and trained until she fell asleep on her paws—it was grueling for sure, but not impossible.

"Maybe it'll make you stronger," she encouraged.

Owlpaw shot her a hateful glare, "I don't need to be _stronger;_ I need to rest so that if an enemy attacks or sickness comes, I won't be dead weight. Nettlestar's rules are stupid."

Fogpaw and Firepaw hissed in unison at their sister to be quiet. "That's the quickest way to lose dinner, honestly, you're such a mouse-brain. If all you're going to do is complain then I'm going to bed," Firepaw stalked past them, her tail twitching angrily as she disappeared into the den.

Fogpaw sighed, "I know it's hard, but this is for your own good and the good of the Clan. Just focus on doing your best," he touched his tail reassuringly to his sister's shoulder for a moment before following after Firepaw.

That left Ghost and Owlpaw in the dark camp outside of the den. Owlpaw sat down with her shoulders hunched and her tail circled over her small white paw. "They don't understand at all, they couldn't, they're both talented and strong and always succeed… they're like dad but I'm like mom and mom…" her voice was choked and mumbled, more like she was talking to herself than to Ghost.

Ghost shifted her paws, wanting to go to her nest and sleep through this cold, dark night and get one day closer to her goal. But the pitiful sight of Owlpaw trembling and despairing, envying her littermates for their strength and cursing herself for her weakness.

It was like a look back in time, as if her own brother was right there just like on that night when he had cursed her and himself and vowed to become stronger than her. The old taste of sadness welled up as she wished he had lived long enough to make it happen.

Stirred by the sentiment of her own memories rather than for the cat in front of her, Ghost sat next to the lonely apprentice and brushed her warm fur against Owlpaw's damp and matted pelt. "I think you can be strong, even stronger than your littermates. But you won't ever get stronger by moping, you've got to make it happen,' her tone was gentle but firm and as Owlpaw lifted her blurry green gaze, Ghost caught it in her own sharp gray eyes.

"What do you know, you're not even a Clan cat," her bitter voice was small, and she didn't look away.

"Maybe not, but I do know a few things about being weak and what it takes to be strong. And the first thing is that if you don't think you can be strong, you never will be."

Owlpaw didn't respond, eyes wide and shiny like light shining through bright green leaves, a glimmer of hope rising out of the despair. "Owlpaw! It's time," a snappy voice broke the moment and Ghost looked up to see a young silver tabby with green eyes, tail twitching impatiently and eyes disapproving.

"You," the tabby addressed Ghost, "I'd rather you stayed away from my apprentice, actually all the apprentices for that matter. You may be a guest, but that doesn't mean you're part of this Clan," the veiled threat in the tabby's gaze amused Ghost. The only cat in this Clan that seemed strong was Wolfclaw, and with any luck, that wouldn't be the case for much longer.

"I'll keep that in mind," she promised, stepping away as Owlpaw dragged her paws over to the tabby.

"It's okay Silverfern, she wasn't doing anything wrong," Owlpaw voice seemed smaller than it had before.

"I decide that," the cat snapped back and Owlpaw flattened her ears to her head in dejection, following the tabby out of the camp with a forlorn expression.

Ghost watched them go, annoyed at the uneasy feeling in her belly. She hated spy work; it was going to make killing later more difficult. "Didn't expect you to be getting so close to the apprentices."

The voice was a welcome distraction from her own concerns and Ghost turned to greet Blackpoppy with a warm nod, noticing that the black cat was barely limping on her paw anymore. "They've helped me settle in and I want to return the favor," she mewed, angling her ears to the apprentices' den to indicate the other two apprentices may be listening.

Blackpoppy's blue eyes glittered in understanding, "I'm glad you feel that way, would you come over here for a moment?" She led her over toward a sheltered area near the elder's den and made sure all the elders were snoring peacefully before speaking again.

"Stormfang said you went after Wolfclaw this morning," her tone was suddenly serious, and her eyes had lost their warmth.

Ghost stiffened and nodded.

Blackpoppy sighed and looked at her paws, consternation evident on her face and they stood in silence for a few minutes until Blackpoppy met her gaze again. "I'm sure you gathered that Wolfclaw is my father, correct?" Ghost nodded. "He and my brother—Rippleheart—support Nettelstar's rules which are rather harsh for the weaker members of the Clan. They have a good reason for this, so I want you to understand that they're not bad cats… they just found the wrong solution."

Ghost frowned, "So you don't want me to kill Wolfclaw?" she barely whispered, not wanting to risk anyone hearing her.

Blackpoppy's eyes flashed in panic, "No, that's not what I meant… I know he must die so that Stormfang can become deputy and then leader but… I wanted you to know that he's not evil like Nettlestar and maybe… we could find another way."

Ghost tried not to scowl; she'd been looking forward to her assassination of Wolfclaw. But she understood that Blackpoppy felt the need to save her family somehow. "How else could you get Stormfang to be deputy instead?"

"Well, Wolfclaw would have to retire, which he wouldn't do unless he could no longer be a warrior. If he suffered an injury that was bad enough maybe…"

"No."

Ghost had been wondering when the cold voice would interrupt.

Stormfang stalked into the tight area and met Blackpoppy's sad gaze with a firm one. "He would know who was behind the attack if he lived, or he would at least have some clue to who it was, and we'd be caught and exiled—if not killed."

Ghost didn't interrupt. What Stormfang said wasn't necessarily true, but it would add a level of difficulty to the mission. She would have to knock Wolfclaw out in one hit before he even realized she was there and then wound him in a manner that wouldn't be traced back to her.

Her eyes glittered as she watched Stormfang console and convince Blackpoppy his way was right. She felt like she was watching a snake coil its body around a bunny. "Then I'll stick to the original plan then," she mewed, moving to take her leave. At this rate she wouldn't get to her nest until midnight and she was planning on training before dawn tomorrow.

"Wait," Stormfang growled, moving his glittering yellow gaze to her, "I want you to… 'take care of' another cat for me."

Ghost's ears pricked in interest and she looked over her shoulder at him. "Who?"

"A ThunderClan cat. I'd been in contact with him to see if they would help us revolt against Nettlestar, but he's backing out. He's a liability and I want him dead before he tells his Clan."

"How do you know he hasn't told any cat already?" Blackpoppy asked worryingly, "I knew we never should have turned to those squirrel-chasers."

"I think he's too much of a coward to have told any cat. I'm supposed to meet him tonight to try to convince him one last time, but it's pointless. Make it look like the work of a rogue, I don't need ThunderClan making trouble just yet."

Ghost listened closely; this would be a good chance to see how her tactics worked against Clan cats. "Sure, just tell me his name and what he looks like."

After getting a description for a lanky brown tom with big brown eyes and the name Oakclaw, Ghost excused herself and left the camp through the dirtplace. Out in the dark pine forest, she headed for the ThunderClan border, keeping off the trails and watching for any night patrols.

She ducked behind a fern bush as she heard a thin cry, peering out into the darkness to see that Owlpaw had tripped on a rut and twisted her paw, pine needles rustling as she rolled into the ditch.

"This is no good, you have to learn to see your surrounding even when you're focused on fighting," Silverfern's exasperated voice scolded her apprentice.

"How can I see anything when there's no light?!" Owlpaw spat crossly as she climbed out of the ditch, shaking mud from her pelt.

"Train your eyes, you're a ShadowClan cat!"

"This is stupid, I'll just only hunt and fight during the day and sleep at night like a normal cat." Ghost hurried away at the heavy sound of a body hitting the ground followed by Owlpaw's whimpers and Silverfern's angry hisses.

_Try your best Owlpaw,_ her thoughts echoed hollowly but she had to push the thoughts away and focus on concentrating. When she reached the border, she quickly made sure she groomed her fur thoroughly and then rolled in the grass and scraped herself against ThunderClan trees to disguise her scent as much as she could. She'd always had a faint scent, so it was easy to hide.

As she circled the area where the meeting had been meant to take place, she found herself feeling more comfortable than she had since she'd first met the Clan cats. The meeting spot was an open clearing with a lingering scent of two-legs and well-worn trails in the grass. But it was empty now and Ghost found a good spot hiding in the undergrowth downwind of the clearing.

Clouds blocked the moon and starlight, but she could tell it was nearing midnight when the meeting would happen. A stiff wind blew through the forest, ruffling her fur with its cold touch, but she didn't flinch, intent on detecting the slightest bit of movement.

Finally, it happened, the tiniest shadow moving at the far side of the clearing, followed by two more shadows. _He didn't come alone… was Stormfang lying or did Oakclaw feel like something wasn't right?_ In any case, her first job was to determine if they knew about Stormfang's rebellion and if they did, she'd kill them too. She unsheathed her claws in anticipation.

The three cats were skirting the clearing, sticking to the ThunderClan side and moving closer to her. She pricked her ears and crept silently closer, keeping to the deepest shadows and was glad that the lack of moonlight would make it difficult for her eyes to reflect any light.

"What did you want to check out here, Oakclaw? The scent markers are fine and its cold."

"I thought I caught rogue scent at the dusk patrol, I just couldn't sleep until I had double-checked," the disconcerted mew lacked confidence.

"Well, now we've checked. Can we please go home before we freeze out tails off like a couple of mouse-brains?" the snippy voice belonged to the cat closest to Ghost. A dark brown tabby tom with green eyes—not her target.

"The dawn patrol probably could've checked, but no harm done," the soothing voice came from the only she-cat of the group, a tan she-cat with a ring-striped tail and dark brown muzzle. Also not her target.

"You're right, I'm glad I was mistaken in any case," the last cat, Oakclaw, scanned the ShadowClan border suspiciously one last time before turning away, the other two close behind him. They hadn't come within reach of her hiding spot. She'd have to improvise.

Ghost scowled and shadowed them as they headed deeper into their territory. Based on their conversation the two others didn't know that Oakleaf had been going to meet Stormfang but seeing how bunched up they were it was making it more difficult.

Plus, the undergrowth got thicker and thicker with every step, they were going to get away or notice her if she didn't act soon. Scowling, she leaped up into the trees, hoping she wouldn't step on a broken or rotten tree branch as she shadowed the three cats from above, eyes gleaming eagerly as she watched them relax as they got deeper into familiar territory.

Gritting her teeth, she balanced on her front paws while she pushed her back legs up against a tree branch, shaking it wildly and breaking the chilly night peace. The three cats immediately looked up at the noise. But she'd disappeared from the spot, leaping the painfully far distance to the ground in front of Oakclaw. Before his brown eyes could even adjust to show fear, her fangs buried into the soft part of his neck and tore a ragged gash.

The she-cat let out a cry of alarm as Oakclaw collapsed, breath heaving in his chest and Ghost darted away as the tom sprang after her with a howl of anger. With the taste of blood in her mouth, Ghost disappeared into the forest, heading north at an unusually swift pace to put some distance between her and the follower. When she had, she stopped at the first puddle she saw to quickly wash the blood from her muzzle and then took refuge in the boughs of an aspen which her pale fur blended into well. The tom hared by underneath her without hesitating.

At this point she was outside of Clan territory and she was sure that the tom would get turned around in unfamiliar territory and admit defeat soon enough. Walking along the aspen branches, she jumped to one tree, then the next, slowly heading in the direction of the ShadowClan border, feeling a strange sense of peace after her nights work.

She went over the event in her mind as she trekked back to ShadowClan's camp. It was a clean kill and she was confident that the blood-stained rogue they'd seen would be distorted by the shadows of their imaginations to become a monster that she wouldn't resemble in the light if they ever did see her again. Her only regret was that she hadn't seen Oakclaw die, though the wound had been serious enough that he would certainly die before his companions could get help.

It felt good to do something, to be getting closer to her goal, closer to going home. But something bothered her. It was the she-cat's cry as her friend crumbled in front of her, the look of terror in her eyes reappeared in Ghost's memory.

A feeling of disgust overcame her, disgust for herself, for her feelings of relief. Wasn't she trying to get away from that life of bloodshed and life stealing? Wasn't that why she was here? This was her last job of killing for someone else. But all the tension she'd been feeling had faded after she'd killed.

Her blood ran cold, what if what she wanted was impossible? A life of not killing… was that within reach? Or was it too much a part of her to ever go away. With her tail down and her heart twisted in her chest, she crossed the ShadowClan border and disappeared beneath the shadows of the pines, a ray of light starting to glow at the corner of the sky as a crow gave a mournful caw.

…

The bright glow of sunlight blinded Robin's gaze as she blinked open her eyes, grimacing at the way it stabbed her sleep sensitive eyes. Yawning, she stretched in her nest, feeling the warmth of the sun soak into her white and brown dappled fur.

Bird song hung in the air and the quiet grumbling of the city echoed in the attic as dust hung in the golden sunlight that bathed the wood in an orange glow. It felt big and empty without Ghost here. Nearly half a moon had passed since her friend had left on her job and she was getting anxious, hoping Ghost would return before the moon was over.

_How far away was it? When did she say she'd be back? I don't remember at all…_ She wondered anxiously as she went to the ladder and descended to the main floor of the abandoned cottage where she and Ghost had made their shelter.

Kits raced to greet her with tiny fluffy tails and mewls of good morning. She purred and guided them to the food pile. It was freshly stocked, so Rowan's cats had already been by today. She sniffed at the prey, it wasn't great, but it wasn't bad either. She wondered how they fed the shelter and themselves so well. _At least they keep their promises, but that's only because Ghost would kill them if they didn't. Literally._

Robin helped the queens sort out the prey for the day and then helped some of the older kits chew their food as they transitioned from milk to prey. There were five queens with kits staying in the shelter, and one more queen that was heavy with kits and could barely move.

Robin pitied her the most, since she was an abandoned pet who didn't even know which house her mate was from and was unable to find him. She took the tenderest piece of prey to her that morning.

"Thank you, Robin," the queen mewed with a sigh, her milky blue eyes wandering to the prey. "But I don't think I'll ever get used to wild food, I'd do anything for a bowl of milk right now," the silver she-cat laid her head down against her blankets that made up her nest and closed her eyes.

"You'll get used to it, I had trouble at first too, but now I almost like it more than pet food," Robin purred, helping the queen eat her food by picking out the bones and other parts not fit to eat.

"Robin! There's a cat here to see you!" One of the kits, an orange tabby tom that was the first up and the last asleep, bumped into her in his haste. "He's really tall, and he's got scars all over him, and has red fur, just like my mom!"

"He doesn't look anything like mom," the tom's littermates started arguing as Robin hurried past them, heading towards the hole in the wall that served as their entrance and exit into the yard. At night it was blocked by a thick curtain of briars, but the kits had already pushed it aside to let in the sunlight and cool morning air.

Already knowing who was probably waiting for her on the other side, Robin braced herself and ducked through the exit. Her fur snagged on a bit of briar that hadn't completely been pushed aside and she let out a mewl of pain as she pushed past it and left a snag of fur on the branch.

"Good morning, Robin, a pleasure to see you," Rowan's green eyes sparked with amusement and Robin scowled. "Don't be like that, I just wanted to make sure that we'd brought enough prey today, will there be enough for tonight's meal as well?"

"Yes, there's plenty."

"No need to be so cold, let's go on a walk, I want to talk with you and there's a few too many tiny ears around here," Rowan mewed, nodding at the entrance to the cottage where a tiny orange paw was showing.

The last thing Robin wanted was to follow this shifty rogue away from her home, but Ghost had asked her to try to get along with him. And she didn't want him hanging around and recruiting the kits for his gang.

"Fine," she followed him out, pressing herself to the cobblestone wall as they exited the premises of what Ghost called the safe haven. "What do you want?" Robin asked, looking around. Not too many people lived in this area and cars rarely passed by at this time of day, but still, sometimes they surprised her when she went out on a walk.

"Not here, come on." Rowan led her across the road without looking and she followed only after checking twice for cars. He led her into a smelly dark ally with a dumpster that leaked a disgusting smelling liquid and jumped on top of the metal container.

"I'm not touching that," she mewed in disgust, glaring up at him.

"Don't make me drag you up here," Rowan's tone was light, but his eyes weren't so playful.

They stared at each other stubbornly for a few moments before she gave in. Grimacing, Robin clumsily scrambled on top of the dumpster, feeling her fur getting dirtier and smellier with each step. From there, Rowan leapt onto the roof of the house closest to them. Robin hoped he didn't expect her to leap that high, unlike Ghost, she didn't think she was a bird.

"Come on!" with a bang, a long log nearly fell on top of her and she crouched low against the dumpster as it shook, fur on end. Rowan was standing on the edge of the thick log that lay slanting down from the roof onto the dumpster.

"I can't climb that," she mewed stubbornly.

"Try, it's easier if you do it quickly though."

Huffing and thinking it useless, she put her paws on the log and felt how bumpy and firm it was. Frowning, she looked up at Rowan's mocking gaze and fumed. Moving as quickly as she could, she rushed up the log and reached the roof just as it began to slip off the roof. With a jump, her front paws hit the roof while her back legs dangled in the air.

"This is an interesting position," Rowan mewed as the log crashed to the ground beneath her with an echoing thump. He kept staring down at her, "don't worry, a fall from here won't kill you. But I can't guarantee you won't break a leg."

"So help me or I'll have Ghost break your neck!" Robin spat back, hissing at the stupid tom's face.

Rowan shrugged, "I don't think she would, but I didn't drag that log up here just so you could fall." He leaned over and grabbed her scruff in his teeth, dragging her up like a kit and she rolled onto the warm roof was a long sigh of relief, her front legs trembling from the effort of holding on and the sound of her own blood pulsing swirled around her ears.

"I hope you dragged me up here for a good reason," she mewed testily as her head cleared and breathing returned to normal. She opened her eyes and stared at the bright blue sky overhead.

"Yes… I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Well, you are keeping your promise to feed us so if it's nothing bad I'll try to help," she mewed, hoping that Ghost would ask Rowan to be more civil if she had to act polite.

Rowan didn't answer right away and he sat down near her, staring off into the distance. "It's about Ghost."

Robin heaved herself to her paws, "Is she back?"

"No, not yet. I think this job will take a little longer than usual, it seemed to require a bit of delicacy that we don't need here in the city. But I wanted to ask you if she'd talked to you about what was going to happen after this job."

Robin squinted her eyes, what was he asking? "She told me it was her last job."

Rowan's shoulders shook as he stifled a mrrw of laughter, "You believe her?" his voice was incredulous as he looked at her.

But she didn't understand the joke, "Why not?" she mewed defensively, "She doesn't lie to me."

Rowan considered for a moment, tilting his head to one side and letting his eyes slide over her, from her flat face to her fluffy belly. "You've known her for a few seasons now… but I've known her since she was a kit."

"So what?" Robin demanded; did he think he knew Ghost better than her? Fat chance!

"I'd like to say that she's changed since then, but I don't think she really has. Even back then she killed cats when she was told to, she didn't even think about it, death was part of her everyday life." Rowan gave a cold laugh, "I admired her, actually. I thought she was the strongest cat I'd ever met. Until one day…"

He trailed off for a moment, hidden memories flashing through his gaze, Robin didn't dare interrupt him. "Anyways, some things happened, and I joined the gangs with my other friends and eventually became leader and Ghost disappeared for a while before coming back. But then she was taking up jobs and killing whoever she was told to, just like before"

"I know that!' Robin snapped; fur ruffled. Her stomach clenched every time she thought of what Ghost did as her main purpose in life. When she'd first found out, it'd terrified her that her savior was a ruthless killer. But she'd slowly learned that there was more to it than that and now she wished that the day would come when Ghost wouldn't have to kill ever again.

"But she wants to stop, that's why this is her last job!"

Rowan unsheathed his claws and scraped them against the roof. "Maybe she does _want_ that," he admitted, "I just don't know if it's possible."

"Why wouldn't it be?" she asked, exasperated as she stalked around the tom to stare down at his face.

"She's a murderer, through and through. If she's no longer a killer, what else would she be?"

Robin lifted her head triumphantly, "She'd be my friend. And she thinks she'll be _your_ mate, but I know you don't really love her, you just like using her," she hissed, disgusted by the surprise in his eyes. Like it wasn't obvious!

"But I do love her, maybe not the way I should, but I do. I love her the way she is now, so I can't want her to stop killing or else I wouldn't love her anymore. But that's not what I wanted to talk about," he added with a glare.

"I think you're under the impression that when Ghost returns, she won't be killing anymore, right?" Robin nodded reluctantly. "But don't you already see that there's no real reason for her to be killing right now?"

"She's doing your dirty work so that the shelter will be fed!" Robin shot back angrily, yes Ghost was responsible for her actions, but he was partly responsible as well!

"How hard do you think it is to feed six cats by yourself? It's a hassle, for sure, and with the kits its doubly so, but it isn't impossible. Especially if she demanded that each of the queens that could hunt helped in shifts. She has the skill to defend the shelter and the skill and numbers needed to keep it fed, so why does she do these jobs?"

Rowan got to his paws and loomed over her, "Its because she doesn't know how to stop killing," he growled, eyes cold. "And that's not about to change over one job."

Robin stood her ground, trying not to show her fear and taking solace in the fact that she was doing this for her friend, the friend that had saved her life out of pure kindness. She could still remember laying on the cold wet pavement, unable to move from hunger, those soft gray eyes looking down at her and taking pity.

"You're wrong," she growled, "Ghost can change, she _wants_ to change. You're the one who doesn't want her to change because it would be inconvenient to lose your best assassin. But I guarantee this, one day Ghost won't kill anymore, and you'll be the only one disappointed."

Robin turned away abruptly, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. She truly believed Ghost would change, she just hoped they all lived long enough to see it because Rowan's icy stare on her back wasn't reassuring her.

**...**

**How was it? I actually really liked writing this chapter and I didn't cringe too much when I was editing, so that's a good sign... but maybe I've been ****desensitized to my own writing so I always wonder how objective I'm being in judging my work. Which is why I need you guys to do it for me, so feel free to tell me what you think about the character, plot, setting, speed, etc. **

**I'll be trying to update at least once a month going forward, maybe even more often! But again, no ****guarantees. Hope you have a most wonderful day and I hope you continue to support me, because honestly, there is a world of difference when you have even one reader that leaves a review.**

**But that's up to you! So, see you again next time (maybe)!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! Hope you're all happy and healthy, these are crazy times we live in. **

**I know it's been awhile, but thanks for supporting me by reviewing and coming back to read again!**

**Chapter VIII**

Frost sparkled off the tips of crisp, brown pine needles. A dazzling carpet of glimmering light as the filtered light hit the floor in tiny pools of warmth. The needles crunched under the paws of four cats and the sharp tang of pine rose in the cold morning air.

Ghost fluffed her fur up against the chill, tasting the air for scents while her narrowed eyes scanned the distant shadows. She'd begun getting used to using her nose and ears more here in the forest, and while her eyes seemed to still be the most sensitive, she was pleased that her nose and ears matched the best warriors in ShadowClan.

Shadowing Wolfclaw, she stuck to his side as he slowed down and dropped into a stalk, they were nearing the ThunderClan border. Ghost recognized the area where she had followed the ThunderClan cats and killed Oakclaw. As more undergrowth and trees such as oak, beech, and maple mixed in with the pines and cedars she caught a cat scent that could only be described as musty.

"Fog," Wolfclaw halted and turned to her, blue eyes skimming over the other two members of the border patrol, which was Silverfern and Owlpaw. "What do you smell?" he was testing her, something he'd begun doing since she'd come to the Clans. But she felt like he was trying to get a grasp of her skills rather than train her, as he said he was doing.

She tasted the air again slowly; she already had sensed what was in the surrounding area, but she had to make it look like she was trying. "I smell crow?" she mewed hesitantly, noticing a few black feathers on the ground and the faint bird scent.

"It's actually raven, but close enough. Anything else, Owlpaw?" he turned to the apprentice.

"The ThunderClan border?" Ghost wished her acting was more like Owlpaw's. She felt like she was clearly pretending sometimes, but this apprentice was genuinely unsure and skittish.

A growl rumbled from Silverfern's throat, "I'd hoped hunting for the elders by yourself every night as punishment for failing your assessment would sharpen your senses at the very least. You disgrace me," the silver tabby looked away in disgust and Owlpaw looked positively miserable staring down at her paws.

Wolfclaw glanced at the annoyed warrior for a moment before addressing Owlpaw again, "Does the scent smell fresh?" he encouraged, his voice was gentle, and his gaze held a hint of sympathy that Ghost hadn't observed before. _So even he has a soft spot. _

Her thoughts naturally turned to how to use this against him, but she stopped herself. _I can't use Owlpaw as bait. Or any of the apprentices for that matter… Not that I haven't done worse. _Slightly disturbed with herself, she also looked away. She hated spying; she wasn't cut out for it.

"It smells really fresh?" Owlpaw was perking up, ears pricked and gaze serious as she attempted to find what she'd missed. Ghost watched her through the corner of her eye, willing her to notice the ThunderClan morning patrol which had suspiciously stopped moving. They had been noticed.

"Is their patrol nearby?" Owlpaw asked, green eyes wide as an owl's as she looked at Wolfclaw. The deputy gave an approving nod and Owlpaw gave a deep sigh of relief.

"Well done, they don't seem hostile, but we'd better go see what those squirrel-chasers want."

Ghost and Owlpaw nodded and took the lead while Silverfern followed. Ghost overheard Silverfern hiss as she stalked past Wolfclaw, "I don't need you to teach my apprentice for me."

"Do a better job teaching and I won't have to," was the growled rebuttal.

Wolfclaw took the lead again as they approached the ThunderClan patrol of four cats. Ghost instantly recognized the she-cat that had been with the tom she'd killed five nights ago. The she-cat's pale fur was matted, and her ringed tail drooped but her dark brown muzzle was drawn in a scowl that didn't match the pain in her eyes.

Ghost felt her belly clench and was surprised at herself, was this _guilt?_ It was almost foreign to her. She'd seen plenty of friends and family mourn the cats she'd killed. Always accidentally, she preferred to stay away from that sort of thing, but she'd never felt anything before. Not sadness or happiness or anything in between. So why now?

"Briarsong," Wolfclaw dipped his head as he stood across from the patrol, just inside the ShadowClan border. The cat he'd addressed was a brown she-cat at the head of the patrol with narrowed green eyes and a testy expression.

"Wolfclaw," her voice was terse as she looked over the ShadowClan patrol. Ghost returned her gaze steadily when it landed on her. "Is that one new?" her gaze grew colder than ice on her. Clan cats were so strange.

Wolfclaw glanced at her, "No, she's not. What did you want?" he asked.

Briarsong glowered at him, "One of our warriors was attacked on our own territory."

_Attacked? Not dead?_ Ghost's paws froze, but she maintained her calm outward appearance. He still wouldn't have recognized her, but he may have suspected Stormfang was behind it if he'd survived. _No, no cat could have survived that, not even with a trained medicine-cat. _

Silverfern was hissing at the ThunderClan cats, "You think we're responsible? I'd watch your mouth you little—"

"No ShadowClan cat has stepped paw over the border. We abide by the warrior code," Wolfclaw shot Silverfern a warning look.

One of the ThunderClan cats grumbled something inaudible. "What? Speak up if you've got something to say! Or are you a coward?" Silverfern paced right up to the border line, tail lashing angrily and the ThunderClan cats stiffened. Ghost observed they slid their claws out, were they going to fight over that? They were as stupid as gang cats from the city.

"Stop goading them, Silverfern. Get back here," Wolfclaw's voice was veiled with threats and he paced forward, pushing Silverfern back with his shoulder. "I'm sorry you've had trouble, but we were not involved."

"The cat that was attacked said it was from ShadowClan," the ring-tailed she-cat mewed, hollow eyes locking onto Wolfclaw.

All four ShadowClan cats stiffened; _he did survive?!_ "Did the victim recognize the cat?" Wolfclaw asked calmly, but his hackles were raised. He didn't seem to believe it.

"No."

"Then how can you know it was a ShadowClan cat?" Wolfclaw's frustration was betrayed in his voice.

"Because he's dead." The pale she-cat's cold voice was suddenly thick with emotion and her eyes shone with pain.

Wolfclaw dipped his head sympathetically, "I'm sorry for your loss, but is it not possible he was mistaken?"

"I was there too, the cat smelled faintly of ShadowClan," the she-cat's eyes now shown with hatred as she looked toward the four ShadowClan cats. Was it her imagination or did it linger on her for a moment? Ghost had never had to care much if cats knew if she was the killer or now, but this was making her a little too anxious.

"Only faintly?" Wolfclaw's ears twitched dismissively. "I'm sure you're aware that there has been more activity from our rogue neighbors outside our territory lately. And if I remember, you reported that you had fought them earlier this season to drive them further away. Isn't it possible one of them came back for revenge?"

Briarsong's eyes flashed to the pale tabby next to her, "We considered that. And the attacker fled in the direction of rogue territory. But Oakclaw was a good warrior, we must check every possibility. We will find the killer and bring them to justice, and if it happens to be a ShadowClan cat, then that will not stop us."

"So be it," Wolfclaw's voice was quiet, but Ghost could see his muscles were tense. It looked like he would like to fight all four ThunderClan cats on his own. The ShadowClan deputy turned abruptly away and flicked his tail in signal for them to follow him.

"Aren't we going to chase those mouse-hearts away from the border?" Silverfern hissed.

Wolfclaw shook his head, "They weren't there to take prey, they're here to make war," he growled.

Owlpaw shot a frightened glance at Ghost. "War?"

Wolfclaw glanced behind him and his gaze softened. "With the cold season coming on fast, it may be delayed. But if they insist on accusing us of murder without evidence, they will feel our claws."

Silverfern nodded grimly, tail lashing behind her. Ghost was surprised as even Owlpaw straightened up, green eyes shining with a glimmer of determination that she'd only noticed occasionally when the apprentice felt strongly about something. They were ready to go to war to defend their Clan? Even when they didn't know the truth? Where was the reward in that? She really didn't understand the Clan cats.

**…**

By the time night fell the rumors had flown around camp and as Ghost munched on a stiff mouse alone at the edge of the clearing, she noted the low chatter was unusually persistent tonight. _But they excited rather than afraid at the prospect of fighting. I guess I can understand a little…_

The elders were recounting other instances of ThunderClan lying as they shared a meal outside their den. Brackenfoot and Tinyfang, who seemed close, were discussing battle tactics if ThunderClna attacked the camp.

All three apprentices were practicing battle moves near her, being careful not to scuff pine needles and dirt over her food. The medicine-cat, Oakleaf, was drilling his apprentice Bluepaw on herbs to be used on battle wounds as he trotted to the nursery where he'd just been summoned, the blue gray she-cat following at his heals.

Nettlestar and Wolfclaw had been in conference in the leader's den with the senior warriors Finchtail and Rootclaw almost since they'd returned from their morning patrols. Wolfclaw had left Stormfang in charge of the camo, and Ghost knew he had seen this as an affirmation of how trusted and capable he appeared.

Now he was loudly stating that if ThunderClan was willing to fight for their lies, then ShadowClan would fight for the truth. No cat was acknowledging the possibility that a ShadowClan cat was responsible. _They care about their Clan more than the truth… but I suppose that's nothing new. _

She quickly finished her meal, watching curiously as Bluepaw emerged from the nursery and sprinted across the clearing to the medicine-cat den and emerged moments later with a bundle of herbs in her mouth before sprinting back to the nursery, squeezing through the tight entrance and disappearing.

Distracted by Bluepaw's rushed manner, she had to scramble to dodge Owlpaw as the apprentice fell, sprawled out, where she'd been sitting. She almost snapped at the apprentices but reminded herself of her disguise in time.

"What are the three of you doing?" she asked, turning to the apprentices. Owlpaw was scrambling to her paws, shaking scraps of debris from her pelt while Firepaw poked her sister teasingly.

"We're helping Owlpaw train, so she won't keep failing," the ginger she-cat answered loudly, rolling her eyes at her sister.

"But it's not going so well," Fogpaw mewed, frowning, "Owlpaw, that was an easy move to dodge, why didn't you?"

"You came at me too fast, I couldn't react in time," Owlpaw tried to defend herself but Firepaw glowered at her.

"An enemy won't wait for you to react; you have to be faster than that!"

Ghost twitched her tail and looked at Owlpaw closely. With her size, speed should be her strength and her long tail was perfect for keeping her balance. Her paws itched and she licked her chest, feeling a twinge of nervousness.

"Do you think you could help me train too? I'm okay at hunting, but I'm worried Wolfclaw will ask me to participate in fighting training one day and I won't be ready," she mewed, blinking hopefully at the apprentices. If they agreed, then she could help Owlpaw at least a little.

Firepaw and Fogpaw exchanged a glance, "I don't think Wolfclaw would ask that of you, since you're a guest that will be leaving in not too long… and we're busy with our own training too," Fogpaw's ears twitched hesitantly.

"But if ThunderClan attacks the camp, it'd be better if we didn't have to protect her, right? And we're already helping Owlpaw anyways, how much more work could it be?" Firepaw spoke up, to Ghost's surprise. "Besides, Stormfang told me to look out for her," she added, shooting an admiring glance towards her mentor.

Fogpaw sighed and relented, "Alright, we can go out for a little bit now before it gets too late, but I'm on night patrol so it can't be for too long." The pale apprentice began leading the three cats away and Ghost followed, glancing over her shoulder again at the nursery where Wolfclaw and Blackpoppy were mewing in hushed tones, shooting anxious glances at the nursery entrance. _Is something wrong with Deerheart?_

Her concern dissipated as she stepped out into the cold, silent pine forest and followed the apprentices to a hollow filled with pine needles and moss. "This is the training ground for apprentices, there's a bigger one for the warriors, but some warriors come here to practice alone," Firepaw told her. "But we've got it to ourselves for now."

Ghost nodded; she'd noticed that Wolfclaw often had three groups of warrior's train per day. One in the morning, one after sun-high, and one at night. She was impressed that cats that trained so much were still so weak. They almost trained as much as she did. _Well, if all you do is practice the same moves, there's a limit to what you can learn._

"Okay, Firepaw, you can work with Fog and I'll work with Owlpaw," Fogpaw ordered.

Frepaw's fur bristled, "You always act like you're in charge," she growled.

Fogpaw turned his sharp eyes on his sister, "I thought you said _Stormfang_ told you to help her," his tone was taunting.

"Don't make fun of my mentor! Just wait, he'll be leader one day!"

Fogpaw snorted in response and turned to Owlpaw, "Let's try that move again, try to dodge it this time."

Firepaw scowled and then turned to face Ghost, eyes flashing. "Alright, do you know the basics?"

"Basics?" Ghost echoed wonderingly, staring blankly at Firepaw. The apprentice closed her eyes and sighed.

"Remember when we gathered moss, you were pretty good at that. And when you attacked that snake, you moved fast—almost as fast as a warrior. So, I think you have the skills, it's probably just technique you lack."

Ghost was impressed that the apprentice had taken notice of her skills in only two brief instances. She nodded and watched with one eye as the red apprentice showed her a basic move of feinting one way with a paw and then changing direction to nip the opponent from the other side.

_What's the point of that move? It won't do much damage even if it works, and it's easy to avoid. If this is what they're teaching, no wonder they're weak. _But obediently, she practiced the move a few times, making it a little faster and cleaner every time. This was also an opportunity to learn about the Clan's fighting style, she didn't want to waste it on easy moved like that.

"You learn quick, like I thought. Unlike Owlpaw," Firepaw looked across the shadowy clearing to where her sister was still struggling to dodge the move, even when Fogpaw moved slower than normal.

In the move, Fogpaw stood on his hind legs before ducking low to sweep out Owlpaw's front legs and headbutt her in the chest to send her rolling away, the wind knocked from her chest. That move was a bit more complex, because she was supposed to turn her defense from her head to her legs and then to her chest, but it should be simple if you knew what was coming. _She can't anticipate his moves at all, and her defense is clumsy at best._ Ghost narrowed her eyes; this wasn't the first time Owlpaw's problems had stemmed from not being able to read her surroundings.

"It's almost midnight, I have to get back to camp to join the night patrol," Fogpaw mewed wearily, resting his tail on his discouraged sister's shoulder. "Why don't you practice more with Firepaw?"

"I have to go hunting later tonight with Stormfang! I want to get some rest," the ginger apprentice protested. "And you have to go catch food for the elders anyway, as punishment," she added, glancing at Owlpaw.

"But I don't want to be in the forest alone! What if there's a fox?" the tortoiseshell glanced around fearfully. "And it's cold and dark and it smells like it's going to rain."

"Nonsense," Fogpaw snorted, "The sky is clear tonight, it won't rain. And you've gone out hunting alone before. The faster you go the sooner you get back to camp and you don't have anything else to do until sun high. The sooner you get started the sooner you get back to your nest."

The other two apprentices left, giving her a passing nod as she padded over to Owlpaw. "How about I help you hunt. And in exchange, you let me help you train," she offered, taking a more confident tone. Owlpaw was so meek, Ghost doubted her best acting would truly convince her. Besides, she needed some cat who knew what they were doing to help her.

"Really? Of course! Though I don't know how much you can teach me when you're not a Clan cat," the apprentice eyed her doubtfully.

"Rogues have their own way of surviving," she purred, beginning to lead Owlpaw from the hollow. "Now, how much do you have to catch?"

"Three pieces, there are three elders after all. But they're picky about the type of prey, they like soft food," Owlpaw grumbled, scuffing her paws through the pine needles.

Ghost halted and turned to Owlpaw, blocking her path. "First off, stop dragging your paws, prey is sensitive to sound and vibrations as well as your scent. When hunting, try to be as quiet as possible. It takes practice, but given the territory, it's not that difficult."

Owlpaw's eyes widened and mouth opened, but she simply nodded. Ghost nodded in approval, "Try it."

Owlpaw frowned but she started walking forward more slowly, keeping her paws steps light. Ghost winced as Owlpaw stepped on a twig and the snap echoed through the hair. "Try it like this, instead," she mewed, elongating her shoulders as she stalked forward, her paws silent as she stepped, her paws brushing over the ground to give her a sense of the terrain. "See, I'm feeling for debris as I set my paw down so that I don't accidentally step on something."

Owlpaw's tail twitched dismissively, "Any cat can stalk."

"Then do it."

The apprentice's green eyes narrowed, and she began to stalk forward, it was better, but it was clear she was unbalanced. "Don't move your tail around so much, I know you're trying to balance, but that motion is actually making it more difficult to be quiet. Focus your balance on your center so you can better adjust your steps. You back paws will follow your front paws naturally, so just focus there."

Ghost paced alongside Owlpaw, carefully watching the apprentice whose eyes seemed serious despite her complaints. "Another tip, flatten your ears and fur, and don't think too much about other things."

Owlpaw looked at her in confusion. "You're thinking too much about how you're doing. Don't think, just move," Ghost got a bitter taste in her mouth as she repeated the words her father had told her over and over again. Often accompanied by a sharp knock to her head or bite to her skin.

"Are we going to hunt or are we going to stalk back and forth all night?" Owlpaw sounded tired and Ghost relented.

"That should be good enough, let's look for some prey then." She led the apprentice deeper into the woods and stopped when she could smell several prey scents. "Do you smell anything?"

The apprentice shook her head before she had even tasted the air. Ghost narrowed her eyes, Owlpaw was going to have to try harder than this. "Turn in the direction of the breeze and open your mouth to draw in the scents."

"There is no breeze tonight," Owlpaw growled.

"Really? You might want to check again," Ghost kept her tone patient as she encouraged the apprentice. Her tail-tip twitched as she realized there was another cat Owlpaw reminded her of, Robin had a lazy but stubborn streak in her. But still, it was her brother she saw when she looked at the apprentice.

Owlpaw lifted her nose carefully, finding the faint breeze coming from the direction of the lake. Turning in that direction, the apprentice lifted her nose into the dark air and opened her mouth, "I smell squirrel!" the apprentice's eyes lit up in excitement.

Ghost nodded approvingly, although she had missed the scents of mouse, shrew, and raven. "You think you can handle it?" Owlpaw nodded and rushed off, remembering after a few steps to try to be quiet.

Ghost had her doubts, but the apprentice had been hunting for moons, she should have a decent grasp on how to hunt. Turning away, she followed the scent of mouse which was the closest and as she stalked through the darkness, she heard it rustling through pine needles.

Stalking it, she crouched and leaped through the shadows, guided only by her whiskers, ears, and nose. Landing squarely on the rodent, she bit its neck before it could let out a squeal. Then she hooked it up with a claw to investigate. It wasn't the plumpest piece of prey she'd ever caught, but it was young and soft, perfect for an elder with soft teeth.

Dropping it behind a fern bush, she followed the scent of the shrew, going a little way before she was close on its trail. Stalking it slowly, she got close enough to see its beady black eyes glinting in the shadows. Keeping her breathing shallow, she tensed her muscles and sprang, trapping it beneath her forepaws and biting its neck. Two successful hunts in as many tries, hopefully Owlpaw had caught her squirrel and they could return to battle training.

She arrived back at where she'd left Owlpaw, her two pieces of prey dangling from her mouth. She stiffened as she heard heavy paw-steps approaching, that wasn't Owlpaw. Dropping her prey in a fern bush at the base of a tree, she leaped up the pine and slipped into a hidden spot. This was more on instinct of never being caught unaware by an unknown creature.

A silver tabby stalked into the clearing, shadows veiling her eyes, but irritation was visible in every hair on her pelt and by scent Ghost recognized Silverfern, Owlpaw's mentor. The she-cat had clearly been following their scent trail and circled around the clearing, looking in the direction that Owlpaw had gone and briefly glancing at Ghost's scent tail. It seemed she hadn't noticed Ghost had returned. She was glad her scent was naturally faint.

Silverfern sat down to wait, eyes glued on the trail Owlpaw had taken, and Ghost watched her closely, studying the way her tail-tip twitched at regular intervals. Owlpaw returned a few moments later, proudly holding a squirrel that was so large its tail dragged through the pine needles. The apprentice seemed surprised to see her mentor and slowed down, her paws seeming to drag through the pine needles once again.

"Is that all you've caught so far?" Silverfern growled, eyes glancing over the squirrel.

Owlpaw set her catch down meekly, "I think it's big enough to feed two of the elders…"

"It's a messy catch too, don't you know how to pounce right?" Silverfern poked the squirrel, prodding the scratches that showed how slow Owlpaw had been to finish it off.

"I'm sorry," Owlpaw dipped her head low and Silverfern responded by cuffing her so harshly that the apprentice winced.

"Sorry doesn't feed bellies. Honestly, you're hopeless. Dawn isn't far off and it seems that after a night of hunting you've only got one squirrel to show for yourself? You're not cut out to be a warrior," Silverfern sniffed and stood up, looming over her apprentice.

Ghost felt her claws itch, but she remained still. Owlpaw jerked her head up at that, "I can be a warrior! And I will be!" a glimmer of defiance rising from the depths of her green eyes. Ghost's heart twisted, she could almost picture what would happen next.

A silver paw lashed out across Owlpaw's cheek, sending the apprentice stumbling and Ghost caught the scent of blood. "Don't talk to your mentor like that again. And if you don't return to the camp by dawn with three pieces of prey, I'll tell Nettlestar that you're slacking off again. He said if it happened again you could be exiled for a moon."

Panic lit Owlpaw's gaze as her mentor turned and stalked away, pausing before she vanished into the shadows. She looked over her shoulder at the apprentice, "And don't you dare hang out with that rogue anymore. If I find out you've been out with her again, you'll regret it." Silverfern's lip curled and she turned with a sniff of distaste, swallowed up by the shadows and leaving Owlpaw staring at her paws.

Making sure Silverfern was gone for good, Ghost was glad she had chosen to hide. The tabby clearly wanted nothing to do with her, or her apprentice. Leaping down from the tree, she approached Owlpaw who hadn't moved.

The apprentice looked up at her with blank green eyes and didn't say a word. "Why didn't you tell her that you'd been training with Firepaw and Fogpaw before hunting? At least then she'd understand you had only begun hunting." _Or point out that it's not even midnight yet, dawn is a long way off._

Owlpaw shook her head slowly, still in a stupor. "She told me not to drag down my littermates by bothering them for help. She'd be even angrier if she found out."

Ghost's tail-tip twitched, this Silverfern seemed awfully unreasonable. "Why does she hate you?"

Owlpaw jerked her head up, "She doesn't hate me! I'm her Clan-mate… but, well… it's nothing," Owlpaw looked away, hurt in her gaze.

Ghost didn't press further but went back to collect her pieces of prey. "Let's go practice some more fighting before returning to camp. You can give this to the elders," she showed Owlpaw her catch and the apprentice only nodded in response.

Ghost led her back to the training hollow, considering the change in Owlpaw after speaking with Silverfern. Physically, the scratch on her cheek had been shallow and had stopped bleeding already. Mentally, the apprentice had been shattered.

_I suspect she's capable, just a slow learner. But Silverfern has given up on her and seems to have an adverse effect on her progress. _She didn't think Silverfern's attitude was due entirely to frustration of her apprentice's skills, there had to be something else. The resentment and distaste were clear as a rotting piece of prey in the fresh-kill pile.

She had seen the same thing happen to her brother who had been less talented than she. Shunned and tormented by their father, he had grown cold and distant whenever their father was around. Even though he had only been three moons old when it began.

Her claws itched at the memory. The cries, the pleading, the shouting, and the consequential blows. Her mind flitted to the ThunderClan cats' hostility that morning, born from grief and suffering. Her belly twisted and paws grew cold as she stalked over the carpet of pine needles. The two cats were silent and solemn on their trek through the forest and Ghost let out a long sigh as they reached the training hollow again.

Dropping the prey in a sheltered spot, she signaled for Owlpaw to do the same and then stalked to the middle of the midnight black clearing. "Attack me," she ordered, facing the apprentice whose gaze was stuck on her paws, tail and ears drooping.

That defeated look on Owlpaw sparked anger in Ghost, her brother had been treated much worse and been much younger, but he'd never even thought of giving up! "Forget Silverfern," she hissed viciously, pinning her ears down, "Forget any cat that looks down on you, just focus on proving them wrong! Make them regret what they did, make sure they never dare do it again to you or any other cat."

The tortoiseshell's head jerked up and eyes widened as her bleary green gaze met Ghost's flinty gray eyes. Owlpaw's mouth opened in surprise, and a flicker of annoyance shot through her green eyes as she crouched and let out a growl. "Don't tell me what to do, you're a rogue!"

"Then beat me and I'll take it back," Ghost goaded, growling deeply, approval rippling through her as Owlpaw's gaze darkened. The apprentice rushed her, paws shooting up scraps of debris. Ghost sidestepped, keeping her eyes locked on the apprentice—a slim shadow in the darkness.

Owlpaw skidded and turned quickly on her back paws, swiping at Ghost's flank. Ghost sidestepped again and crouched as Owlpaw sprang toward her, claws outstretched and a snarl on her face.

But her paws slipped at the last instant and she fell face-first in the ground. Ghost sprang on top of her, holding her down as the apprentice flailed around beneath her. "Think, how can you get free? Don't think about what works for Firepaw or Fogpaw, but what works for you," Ghost hissed in the apprentice's ear.

Owlpaw froze for a moment, and then she started wriggling like a worm until she was free from Ghost's sheathed grasp. "Good," Ghost crouched again, facing the panting apprentice. "Again."

Instead of protesting, Owlpaw nodded, the triumph of escaping had bolstered her motivation. They sparred for a good portion of the night until Owlpaw was too weary to go on. "Let's go back so that you can rest before the daily duties begin," Ghost decided at last.

Owlpaw nodded, flopping on her side and closing her eyes as she fought to get back her breath. Ghost sat down next to her, looking up at the dark canopy of pine needles, spying a swath of sky that was beginning to grow gray with the coming dawn.

That strange, warm feeling filled her chest as she looked down at the exhausted young tortoiseshell, like the relief of having completed a difficult job. "You did pretty well, do this every night for a moon and you'll fight as well as your litter-mates, no doubt."

Owlpaw groaned in response to that statement, but through her slitted eyes a glow of hope brightened the darkness. From that night of sparring three things had been made clear to Ghost. One, Owlpaw was more capable than she thought, but only when she was determined. Two, the apprentice was in fact as agile and speedy as she'd hoped, but her balance needed work. And third, while the apprentice was slow and clumsy anticipating attacks, her quick reflexes shone in the heat of the fight.

"Let's get that prey back to camp, it's cold and dawn will be breaking soon," Ghost mewed, crossing the clearing and grabbing the prey they had dropped before sparring.

"Aren't you tired?" Owlpaw asked, getting slowly to her paws and shaking scraps of moss and pine needles from her fur.

Ghost blinked, her muscles were warm and tense, but her heart was calm, and her paws easily moved silently. She shook her head, "I've got good stamina," she mumbled around the prey.

Owlpaw grabbed the remaining prey, "You're a really good fighter and hunter… not at all like how the other cats said you were." Ghost flicked her ears, luckily to the rest of the Clan, if Owlpaw said she was good they wouldn't think anything of it. And given that Silverfern didn't want them spending time together, Owlpaw wasn't likely to mention it.

During the short trip back to camp, gray light began filtering through the dark pine trees and the first caw of a crow broke the silence. "The camp seems awfully busy for so early in the morning," Ghost grumbled, realizing almost the entire camp was awake. Slipping in unnoticed wasn't going to be possible.

Owlpaw sped up, her fur ruffled and eyes wide in worry. _Is it normal for Clan cats to be so worried about each other?_ The thought crossed Ghost's mind, but she couldn't answer it. Clan cats were full of contradictions.

Ghost followed Owlpaw and ducked into camp as the apprentice's tail disappeared through the entrance. Emerging into the camp, noise buzzed in her ears and it seemed every cat was up and murmuring to one another, an air of tension crackling like lightning.

Making sure Silverfern wasn't paying any attention, Owlpaw and Ghost dropped the prey off at the elders' den but while Owlpaw trotted over to her littermates, Ghost hung back by the elders. "Help Owlpaw with hunting duty last night, eh?" the blue-gray elder, Clovereye, asked, poking at the prey.

Ghost shook her head, "No, I was out for a walk and just helped her carry it back." Clovereye snorted but didn't press further.

"Must have been a long walk, you weren't here at moon-high when it started," Foxtail rasped, looking up from where he was grooming his fur.

Ghost sat down next to them, "What started?" she asked, though she had noticed every cat was giving the nursery frequent, anxious glances. She recalled how Oakleaf and Bluepaw had been called to the nursery right as she'd been leaving camp with the apprentices. "Is something wrong with the queen?"

"Nothing's wrong," the third elder, Whiteflame purred, "It's the most natural thing in the world. Although, looking at Wolfclaw, you wouldn't think that," she gave a purr of amusement.

Ghost spied the deputy standing in the shadow of the nursery, eyes fixated on the den and ears pricked forward, tail tip twitching nonstop, completely fixated on the den. "His mate is kitting?" Ghost guessed.

The elders nodded, "This is Deerheart's second litter, she'll be fine. Especially with Oakleaf there," Clovereye mewed, chest puffing and every ounce of confidence in her voice.

"Oakleaf is Clovereye's only surviving kit, she's very proud of him," Whiteflame leaned over to whisper in Ghost's ear.

"The medicine-cat is a very important position and Oakleaf is the best we've had in generations," Clovereye snapped, ear twitching in annoyance.

"I never said differently," Whiteflame purred gently, stopping as a long shriek echoed across the clearing. All the murmuring froze, and eyes were glued to the nursery. Even Ghost could feel her heart thumping uncomfortably hard in her chest as her gaze was pulled by some unseen force to the nursery.

Blackpoppy shot out from the nursery with Bluepaw behind her, the two raced across to the medicine-cat den without uttering a word. They appeared moments later with a bundle of herbs in each of their mouths and sprinted back to the nursery.

Cats were beginning to murmur again when Blackpoppy stuck her head out from the nursery, her eyes locking onto Ghost's, since the elder's den was right next to the nursery making her the closest to the entrance. "Quick, go grab some moss and get it wet!"

"Get a move on!" Clovereye growled, nosing her as Ghost hesitantly got to her paws. A little confused, she raced out the entrance, feeling eyes upon her and she breathed a sigh of relief as she emerged back into the pine forest.

_Moss, moss, moss…_ she headed back to the clearing where she'd gathered moss with Firepaw and Fogpaw that one-time and she quickly scraped together a small ball. _Now water…_ she headed for a puddle near the camp where she'd been getting fresh water everyday and dipped the moss ball into it before sprinting back to the camp.

It felt like she'd just left the camp, but guilt pricked her for not being faster as water dripped over her chest fur, her pelt twitched uncomfortably. Hurrying across the clearing towards the nursery she poked her head into the nursery, feeling brambles scratch through her fur to her skin.

"Bring that water to her head so she can drink," Oakleaf ordered, amber eyes flashing up only for a heartbeat. The nursery was hot and stuffy and the heavy panting of a cat filled the air with suffocating noise.

The den was cramped with the queen stretched out on her side, strong contractions rippling beneath her fur. Over her Blackpoppy hovered, gaze anxious as she looked over her mother. Oakleaf had his golden-brown paws pressed firmly to the queen's belly, eyes focused on each contraction. Bluepaw sat next to him, tentatively placing her paws next to her mentor's, eyes round as she watched the queen's shallowing breathing.

Skirting the cats, Ghost placed the moss ball by Deerheart's head, pushing the cold, damp ball to her burning nose. The she-cat opened her exhausted brown eyes and lapped gratefully at the water before scrunching them tight and letting out another shriek.

"Blackpoppy, go grab a stick for her to bite down on, something really strong," Oakleaf ordered. "You, Fog was it? Prop her head up so that she can breathe more easily. Come on, Deerheart, almost there."

Ghost couldn't remember feeling more uncomfortable as she laid down on her belly and slipped her forelegs under the queen's heavy head. Deerheart opened her brown eyes and locked her gaze in a way that Ghost couldn't look away from. It felt like the queen just needed to focus on something to get through this and right now, Ghost happened to be right there.

_All that suffering, exhaustion, stubbornness, determination… and love. Do queens really feel all that for kits that they haven't even seen yet?_ Her belly clenched; she'd seen those mixed emotions on the queens that stayed at the shelter. But no matter how many times she saw it, she couldn't understand.

Her thoughts flew to her mother, had she felt that way? If she had, Ghost had never seen it as clearly as she did in other queens. She pushed thoughts of the pale gray she-cat with sad, tired blue eyes out of her mind as she always did when her thoughts wandered there.

"They're coming, Bluepaw, hold your paws here," Oakleaf positioned his apprentice's paws. "Press hard, tell me when the contractions stop." The apprentice nodded, eyes wide as she did as her mentor ordered and Oakleaf moved lower down the queen's flank.

"Can you feel how many?" Oakleaf's amber eyes flashed to the blue gray she-cat.

"Three, I think," Bluepaw breathed. Oakleaf nodded in approval and nothing but Deerheart's panting filled the air.

A strong convulsion took hold of the queen's body and she let out an ear-splitting shriek that made Ghost flinch. "There's one," Oakleaf was already holding a tiny scrap of fur in his paws, licking it roughly. There was another shriek and Ghost found herself holding a tiny scrap of fur in her paws.

"Lick it, warm it up and get it moving!" Oakleaf snapped, placing the kit he'd been licking at Deerheart's belly just in time to grab another. Ghost dutifully lapped at the tiny kit in her paw, eyes focused on its tiny face and crumpled ears as it lifted its head weakly and started letting out mewls of protest against her brisk licking.

"Good, that's the last of them," Oakleaf mewed, handing the last kit to Bluepaw whose yellow eyes were glowing with wonder as she licked the tiny kit as if her life depended on it. Ghost continued the lick the kit she'd been given as Oakleaf looked over Deerheart carefully.

"Is it over?!" Blackpoppy burst into the nursery, dropping three sticks at her paws.

"I asked for one stick, not the whole forest!" Oakleaf mewed in exasperation. "But yes, everything went well," he mewed as Ghost placed the kit gently at Deerheart's belly and Bluepaw followed suit.

"Is Deerheart alright?!" Wolfclaw pushed through the entrance, bending back the brambles with his wide shoulders.

"Yes, she's fine, but you're all crowding her! Everyone out except for me and Bluepaw, we'll call you in when she's ready," Oakleaf snapped, shooing them away with his tail.

Ghost was the first to leave, feeling she was the most misplaced in the setting, but at the entrance she looked back for a heartbeat and saw how lovingly Wolfclaw touched his nose to Deerheart's as Blackpoppy looked on with joy and sadness weighing equally heavy in her gaze.

Exiting the den, she could still feel the tiny kit in her paws and the warm body beneath her tongue. Head spinning, she ignored the questioning glances of the Clan—Blackpoppy could tell them.

Moving on instinct, she headed for the apprentices' den and for once the three young cats didn't bother her with any questions as she passed them and disappeared into the den to collapse into her nest. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so exhausted. But the scenes she'd seen kept flashing in her mind when she closed her eyes and one in particular stuck.

Wolfclaw with Deerheart, the love and tenderness in their gazes as they looked at each other and then at their kits. Her belly clenched and she felt sick, how could she kill Wolfclaw now? Feeling miserable, she recalled what Blackpoppy had asked her about only laming Wolfclaw instead of killing him. Stormfang was clearly against it, saying it was too risky and at the time, she'd agreed.

But now? She'd never felt so reluctant to do a job and she couldn't think about killing Wolfclaw without feeling sick. _I'll do it, I'll lame him instead. At least that way he'll be able to still be with his mate and kits. I don't care what Stormfang thinks and I'm sure that Blackpoppy will manage to convince him it was the right move eventually. I don't care of Stormfang decides not to help the city cats because I didn't obey him. I can't kill Wolfclaw now._

…

That's what she'd thought, what she'd decided. Ghost looked down at the dark trail of blood that flowed limply from the lifeless dark gray tom. His white-specked nose drenched in blood and blue eyes gazing emptily at the thick cover of pine branches. His expression was blank, he hadn't even had time to react.

Cold night air burned her nose and the sickly-sweet scent of blood permeated the air. With a deep sigh Ghost could feel herself growing cold and heavy as stone, was it impossible for her to bring anything but death and suffering? Could she not ever escape the art of killing she'd perfected from a young age?

Her eyes caught the glimmer of a star through the pine trees. She recalled that the Clan cats prayed to the stars, it sounded silly, but right now, everything was silly. _Tell me, why am I like this? Am I capable of only causing pain and grief? Can't I change too? Or will I be a killer forever?_

There was no answer from the distant sky and the first flakes of snow fell softly through the night air and landed delicately on the dead tom's cold fur and the wind howled even more loudly through the forest, shaking the trees angrily. A chill crept along her spine as she thought she could make out a cold voice howling along with the wind.

_You can never change. _

**...**

**What a chapter... I feel like I'd be Oakleaf, kind of grumpy but focused. A lot happened in this chapter, but I've got lots more to come! It makes me excited just thinking about it! Too bad I don't think of it when I actually have time to write... **

**If you want to, please leave a review, I love'em! If not, well, thanks for nothing. Disclaimer: life is a bad influence on me. **

**As for the next update... no idea but it will happen. I can't tell you how much I appreciate all of you who read it even with the long breaks in-****between. Hope to see you again soon!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, good to see you all again! **

**It's been awhile, sorry~ But thanks to everyone who keeps reading this despite the slow updates! And especially for everyone who reviews, it makes it all worth it!**

**Chapter 9**

_Come on… just a little further…_ Through the canopy of fragrant pine needles, the lithe gray feline peered down at the slowly moving silhouette of a cat in the distance. Crouched in a stalking position, the silhouette moved forward slowly, tail still, ears pricked forward, intent on their prey.

_Now!_ As the thought flashed in Ghost's mind, the shadow sprang forward, covering nearly three tail-lengths of forest floor to land squarely on a shrew whose shriek was cut short as its life was ended.

The cat, having completed its hunt, trotted off with their tail held high, the tiny bundle of fur in its mouth. _Owlpaw is definitely doing better…_ Less than a quarter moon since Ghost had begun training with her on a nightly basis and the apprentice had improved enough that even her mentor had grudgingly agreed to Wolfclaw's suggestion of a reassessment to see if she could be taken off solo elder hunting duty.

The apprentice had worked hard every night and Ghost knew she deserved this victory. Feeling satisfied that Owlpaw would pass even Silverfern's high standards, Ghost crept along the cold, rough pine branches, heading back to camp before the day ended.

As she hit the cushioned forest floor, a stiff wind blew through her fur and she twitched her nose, it was chilling with a taste of ice. The heavily overcast sky made her think of snow and while suppressing a shiver, she snagged the four pieces of prey she had caught earlier and headed back to the ShadowClan camp.

Ducking into the camp, she could see that most cats had settled down to share tongues as twilight settled. After dropping her offerings on the fresh-kill pile, she kept a plump mouse for herself that was still slightly warm. Glancing around quickly, she sighed and went to join Firepaw and Fogpaw. Only the apprentices and elders were unbothered by her presence, and while she liked them fine, it was difficult to learn more information by spending time with the same cats.

As she walked across the clearing, she noticed Stormclaw watching her from where he sat beside Blackpoppy and Bluepaw, his sharp yellow eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Her fur prickled and she instinctively glanced over towards the nursery where Wolfclaw had gone to share a meal with his mate.

She recalled the conversation she had with Stormclaw yesterday, catching her before dawn as she headed back to camp behind Owlpaw. With the gray pre-dawn light setting alight his fierce yellow gaze, he'd scowled at her actions.

"_Why are you getting involved with the Clan? Your mission is to follow orders."_

_ "Its only to help blend in with the Clan. Being an active member will make me less suspicious. The more they feel like the know me, the less they'll suspect me."_

_ Stormclaw had narrowed his eyes and dropped his voice low. "We've waited long enough. Take out Wolfclaw. Do not be caught, and do not tell Blackpoppy." The tom had turned away when Ghost dared to ask, her heart beating in her chest._

_ "If I have the chance, can I maim him instead of killing him?"_

_ The tom looked slowly over her shoulder, ever hair on his pelt smooth and his gaze bored into hers, making her squirm in her fur. "No." His voice had the coldness of the harshest frost and dripped with venom. _

Ghost suppressed a shiver now as she sat down by the apprentices, nodding at them each in turn and politely asking about their day. Stormclaw… he was without a doubt the strangest cat she had ever worked for. He acted amiable and respectable with his Clan, but when he was giving her orders, he seemed ruthless, driven by his dark ambition for leadership. _But is that really it?_

She shivered in spite herself, what was she doing, questioning her employer's motives. She didn't need to know, all she had to do was carry out her orders from both Stormclaw and Rowan. "It is cold tonight, isn't it?" Fogpaw commented, having noticed her shiver.

Ghost nodded in response, her mouth full of mouse as she tore into it, barely registering its soft, warm meat with all her thoughts confusing her. "Do you think Owlpaw will pass this time?" Firepaw asked, amber eyes flashing toward the entrance.

"I think so, she's been doing better recently. I guess she finally decided to work seriously," Fogpaw mewed to which Ghost nodded along.

"You've been working with her a lot too; have you been teaching her anything?" Firepaw asked, curiosity gleaming in her eyes as she leaned forward.

"Oh no, in truth, she's been teaching me," Ghost mewed, ducking her head in humble embarrassment.

Firepaw narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but she dropped the expression quickly as she continued the conversation. "In any case, I'm relieved, I was starting to worry about her. With leaf-bare nearly here, it's only going to get more difficult. And on top of that, we'll be warriors before long, so she'll have even tougher rules to follow."

Ghost twitched her ears, watching the two young cats chat on about their future warrior names and dreams. Firepaw wanted to be leader someday and Fogpaw wanted to be a warrior like his father and mentor, Aspenheart. He said that with pride glowing in his blue eyes.

"Aspenheart is your father?" Ghost asked curiously, glancing across the clearing where the gray tom with black brindle stripes sat sharing tongues with Brackenfoot and Tinyfang. None of the apprentices really resembled him or spoke to him much aside from Fogpaw who was apprenticed to him.

Firepaw followed her gaze, eyes wistful, "It's really in name only. After our mother died, he's never acted like much of a father." Silence settled over the three of them, darkening the mood as twilight darkened the camp in smoky gray light.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did she die?" Ghost asked softly, turning her attention to the two cats that were staring up at the shifting pine branches overhead. They shared a glance before Firepaw shrugged.

"Illness. Late last new-leaf when we still kits illness struck all four Clans. Everyone lost someone close before the medicine-cats found a cure. That's also why Fogpaw was apprenticed to Aspenheart. Normally he wouldn't because we're close kin, but there just weren't enough experienced warriors."

Ghost nodded as if she understood, but the dismal expressions of grief on their faces was foreign to her heart. She didn't remember what grief felt like, only regret with its acrid taste in her throat. "Thank you for telling me," she mewed politely. "Oh, it looks like Owlpaw has returned," she mewed, rising to her paws.

Fogpaw and Firepaw followed suit and eagerly went to greet their littermate, eyes shining as they congratulated the tortoiseshell who proudly deposited four pieces of prey on the fresh-kill pile. Silverfern padded next to her apprentice and mewed what appeared to be grudging words of praise.

Owlpaw's green eyes glowed with happiness as Firepaw and Fogpaw praised her and nosed her proudly. Even a few warriors turned to give a word of praise as they passed by, approval glowing in their gazes. Ghost watched Owlpaw soak up the warm words that surrounded her. But it only made her feel colder as she sat alone, unseen, as the edge of the clearing. _I'm glad all that work paid off but… so what?_

Her paws felt heavy and when Owlpaw caught her glance from the other side of the clearing, she would have rather fought through a briar bush than give the warm nod of approval. But she did nod because that was part of the act too. And with that coldness fueling her determination, she now had a job to do.

Taking advantage of the little celebration, Ghost slipped out of the camp before the nigh sentry took up their position and crouched in a sparse fern bush off the side of the main trail, waiting for her prey to come her way. The night dragged on, a suffocating blackness pressing in on all sides. A cold wind, coupled with how still she crouched, made her feel as if she were made of ice.

Midnight passed, several cats went out to patrol, hunt, or train and returned. But still she waited, she'd wait every night until she caught him. Her thoughts were absent, the time slipped by like water in a stream, she only waited and watched.

But tonight, luck was on her side. The darkest part of the night had passed, and dawn wouldn't be far off when her prey finally emerged from the camp.

Wolfclaw and Nettlestar stood at the mouth of the camp entrance. The leader was speaking to the deputy, their heads close together, but they were too far away for Ghost to hear. And besides, it wasn't her concern. The deputy soon left the leader, the silhouette of his head bowing in respect as he turned to the pine forest and headed along a trail.

Ghost waited for Nettlestar to return to camp, his pale green eyes passing over her without pausing, then she began the hunt. Wolfclaw's trail was the same one he had taken before, when her hunt had been interrupted by that ominous presence. She wouldn't let that happen again.

Taking advantage of her speed, she cut past Wolfclaw, who was moving at a brisk, but not swift, trot. Knowing where he was headed gave her all the information for a perfect ambush. She crouched in a crook of two tree branches, hidden from sight from the ground but close enough that he wouldn't be able to dodge as he passed by underneath her. She made sure no hunting patrols were in the area and there was no sign of any other distractions. She settled down in her ambush spot and waited again.

Her breathing slowed, she slid out her claws, waiting patiently for him to walk into her trap. By dawn, he'd be dead. Her belly twisted and her paws froze at the thought. Despite her familiar concentration, images flashed through her mind.

Blackpoppy's blue gaze, sadder than a morning glory withering as the sun sets. Stormclaw's unfeeling gaze. The apprentices, a warmth and solidarity among them as untouchable as the sun. And then Wolfclaw touching noses with his mate, his three helpless kits mewling at his paws. His blue eyes full of that tenderness and happiness which could only be love.

_What am I doing?!_ Shocked, she sat up quickly, nearly falling off the branch in her surprise. Had she already forgotten? She'd decided not to kill Wolfclaw! That day, in the nursery when she'd seen him with his family. How willingly she had been to forget her promise to herself when Stormclaw gave her an order.

_But he told me to kill him, and not to maim him. Can I disobey an order? But no… I'm sure Blackpoppy and Tinyfang would prefer not killing Wolfclaw, and they are also my employers. If I can pull this off, we can convince Stormclaw. And if he decides to fire me and not to help Rowan then… I'll help Rowan myself and make sure his dream comes true. _

Her paws felt lighter and the knot in her belly unwound itself with this decided, she would still ambush Wolfclaw but instead of killing him, she'd knock him out and gouge out his eyes. He'd be unconscious, he'd never know it was her. No one would, and Stormclaw would be deputy just like he wanted.

But wait a moment… where was Wolfclaw? She held her breath, had he gotten here quicker and heard her? She should be able to hear him by now, where was he? Did he take a different path after all? Had he slowed down for some reason? Did she wait for him or go?

An assassin waited, always. That's what her father had taught her, waiting was key. If circumstances changed, abandon the plan. As she got to her paws and started stalking through the pine branches, a cold shudder swept over her. Like a claw made of ice had run along her spine, she froze as the now familiar sensation passed over her.

She let out a breath as it passed over her, but the relief didn't last long as a fresh scent filled the bitter cold darkness. _How could this be?_ Shock froze her for a heartbeat before she sprang into movement, running headlong through the coal black night.

Ghost leaped down from the pine trees, her paws silent as she slowed to a stalk, her heart beating with solid certainty of what she would find. She stopped, eyes blinking uselessly in the darkness. It felt like the cold air had frozen in her lungs. The toes of her paws were soaking in a thick, warm liquid and she forced herself to look down, straining her eyes in the darkness cast by the deeper shadows of a hollow in the ground.

Her eyes first followed dark trail of blood that flowed limply from the lifeless dark gray tom. His white-specked nose drenched in blood and blue eyes gazing emptily at the thick cover of pine branches. His expression was blank, he hadn't even had time to react.

Cold night air burned her nose and the sickly-sweet scent of blood permeated the air. With a deep sigh Ghost could feel herself growing cold and heavy as stone. Her good intentions of change were useless, she may not have killed him but what difference did that make? Letting out a long breath that fogged her gaze in the frozen air, she looked up hopelessly.

Her eyes caught the glimmer of a star through the pine trees, glimmering between a break in the clouds. She recalled that the Clan cats prayed to the stars, it sounded silly, but right now, everything was silly. _Tell me, why am I like this? Am I capable of only causing pain and grief? Can't I change too? Or will I be a killer forever?_

There was no answer from the distant sky and the first flakes of snow fell softly through the night air and landed delicately on the dead tom's cold fur as the wind howled even more loudly through the forest, shaking the trees angrily. A chill crept along her spine as she thought she could make out a cold voice howling along with the wind.

_You can never change. _

**…**

Caterwauls of anguish broke the soundless dawn. Ghost lifted her head slowly, stretching and climbing out of her nest delicately as if she were balancing a huge load on her shoulders. Filtered gray light hung in the den where Firepaw had already sprung to her paws and was poking Owlpaw awake, hissing at her sleepy sister. Fogpaw's nest was empty and the scent was stale, but he'd been there when Ghost had slipped silently back to her nest before dawn.

"What's all the noise about?" Owlpaw mumbled, swaying to her paws, tortoiseshell fur sticking up wildly. She stumbled after Firepaw, eyes still scrunched closed.

Ghost yawned; she had no doubt of what it was about. The problem of course was going to be how she'd explain her absence if any cat had noticed. Theoretically, Stormclaw was supposed to give her an alibi, but she had her doubts.

Stumbling out into the clearing where a dusting of snow had settled over the pine needles, Ghost paused behind the apprentices that had frozen in place outside their den. Staring with vacant expressions at Wolfclaw's lifeless body in the middle of the clearing.

Blackpoppy stood by his body, head bowed in grief while Stormclaw stroked her spine with his tail, a convincing look of black fury and twisted anguish molded on his face. Finchclaw and Aspenheart were speaking to Nettelstar outside his den, apparently their morning patrol had found the body.

Ghost remained in the shadow of the den as cats stumbled out from their warm nests, blank looks of shock on their faces as they glanced wordlessly at each. An oppressive silence settled over the camp, not even the sound of birdsong broke the dreamlike silence.

A low moan of grief and shaking sobs arose as the queen Deerheart stumbled from the nursery, her brown eyes stricken with grief. The shrill cries of her kits called after her, but the brown she-cat walked with heavy purpose towards the corpse of her mate and collapsed besides it, her sobs smothered as she plunged her muzzle into Wolfclaw's cold fur.

Blackpoppy crouched besides her mother, her shoulders shaking but no sound escaped her throat. Ghost's paws felt colder than the snow she stood upon and her mind felt numb as she watched the cats expressing their grief. There wasn't even a shred of anger in the air as a stone-cold sorrow—like a layer of ice—settled over the cats.

The elder Clovereye stared up at the tiny flecks of sky visible between the pine branches, her mouth moving slowly as if in prayer. The stolid Rootclaw sat at the edge of the clearing, head buried in his chest. The medicine-cat Oakleaf trembled as he rubbed herbs over the body of the corpse, replacing the scent of death with that of lavender and thyme.

Ghost watched the mourning silently, not even noticing the time going by as the sun hit its peak and yet no cat had left for patrols or training. The whole camp seemingly paralyzed as cats sat crouched and encircled the fallen deputy. She watched it with a painful curiosity, unable to share their grief and yet unable to not be untouched by it.

She had known Wolfclaw was esteemed and respected by the Clan, but this… she had never seen such sorrow shared by so many before. The only cats missing from the scene of mourning was the elder Whiteflame who had gone to comfort Deerheart's young kits, and the leader.

A sensation like that of a snake running over her spine turned Ghost's stomach over. Without moving her head, her steely gray eyes flashed towards the leader's den where Nettlestar had just emerged, his pale green gaze unreadable.

He seemed to observe his Clan like a hunter observed his quarry, an air of indifference and consideration enclosed him as he pondered impossible thoughts. Ghost could not help but glance at Stormclaw from where he crouched just behind Blackpoppy. His sharp yellow gaze had turned towards the leader, the unreadable gazes meeting and mixing like two rivers flowing in opposite directions crashed into each other. Ghost felt the foreboding of a storm gathering over the Clan and her legs stiffened.

Nettlestar did not speak but joined the mourning party at the head of his now deceased deputy. And the day of mourning continued as the shadows gradually lengthened over the soft dusting of snow.

Ghosts belly rumbled as the last streaks of fire disappeared from the indigo sky, but there was no food for what little that had been leftover from the day before had been given to the elders and queen. An icy wind blew through the clearing and Ghost fluffed her thin fur up against it. She had barely moved since this morning and she remained fixated on the Clan that continued its benumbed grieving.

Deerheart had been forced to give up her spot next to her mate in order to feed her kits, but she returned now as twilight waned into night and the claw-scratch of a moon shed its pitiful moonlight over the camp of darkness and sorrow.

As the moon hit its height Nettlestar stood up, his lithe figure hardly perceptible in the shadows, but his voice was full of rumbling power. "My Clan-mates, Wolfclaw was a noble and powerful warrior, a truly honorable deputy that lived to serve his Clan. But as he is no longer of this world, we must live on and serve our great Clan and protect our code against all who would oppose us."

Nettlestar had the attention of the entire Clan, all broken and tired gazes were trained on the silhouette of their leader. The tom drew himself to his full height and spoke clearly in the silence, "I say these words before the body of Wolfclaw, so that his spirit and the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice. The new deputy of ShadowClan is Stormclaw."

Stormclaw stood up, swaying a little from having been crouched down for so long. "In honor of Wolfclaw's spirit, I will strive to serve this Clan as he did and uphold the warrior-code as long as I live." His words were solemn and quiet but held that power which Ghost had frequently observed in him, like a raincloud about to burst.

Her belly squirmed, she felt like the storm that had been gathering all day was about to break. There was no trust shared between the leader and new deputy, instead, Nettlestar looked at Stormclaw in the manner of a spider watching its prey struggle in its finely threaded gossamer web.

"Stormclaw, as your first duty as deputy I want you to punish Wolfclaw's murderer."

A collective gasp of horror rushed over the Clan and Stormclaw narrowed his gaze at Nettlestar. Ghost's ears pricked in sudden apprehension, _punish_ the murderer, not _find_ the murderer? She narrowed her gaze as murmurs echoed throughout the Clan as more cats rose to their paws, intense rage replacing shattered sadness.

"We'll avenge Wolfclaw!"

"Kill the murderous flea-bag!"

"Death is too good for them, make them suffer!"

"Who dared to strike down a noble warrior? They will pay!"

Outraged roars shook the night air, the waves of hostility swept over Ghost, melting the ice that had seemed to grow over her mind and body as she watched the collective act of mourning. _But who is it? There was no trace of the killer when I arrived shortly after the deed was done, and I know I didn't leave a trace… so who?_

A sickening feeling twisted her throat as she noticed the gleeful look in Nettlestar's eyes as he stood still with the dark, faceless rage of his Clan growing at his paws. _Like a rat._ The thought flashed through her mind as the leader waved his tail for quiet.

"The murderer is close than any of us could think. They have betrayed our trust and friendship, waited for our guard to be lowered before striking at the very heart of our Clan."

Ghost stared at Nettlestar's mouth, her breath hanging on his every word and the day that had seemed to slip away now seemed to draw out in eternity. The leader's pale gaze swept over the Clan whose attention he commanded, and she felt it linger on her in the secluded shadow of the apprentices' den. Her legs trembled ever so slightly. Was this fear?

"When I found Wolfclaw dead this morning, I immediately searched the area for clues. There was no trace of a scent or trail of any sort. But there was a clue left behind that left no room for doubt of who the murderer is. Tucked in between Wolfclaw's claws was this tuft of fur."

Nettlestar held up a tiny ball of fur, the faint moonlight lighting up the pale gray color like an ethereal bundle of fog hooked on Nettlestar's claws. Ghost's breathing chocked in her chest, _impossible!_ The scent, so slight, so cold, even she could barely discern it at her distance. But it was unmistakable.

Stormclaw stepped forward, stiff and slow and put his nose to the fur, shock flying through every fur on his pelt and lifting it on end. "It is undeniable, Finchclaw and Aspenheart both confirmed this was in Wolfclaw's claws when he was found and Oakleaf has confirmed the scent. The cat this fur belongs to is our deputy's murderer. And they will certainly be punished."

Ending with a growl, Nettlestar flung the scrap of fur into the air and let it fall slowly among the crowd of cats, the faint scent that clung to it spreading quickly among the cats and all eyes turned towards the cat who it unquestionably belonged to. Within moments, the shapeless mass of cats had created a small circle to surround the ensnared culprit.

Ghost could not speak, could not even move, the sorrow in every gaze had evaporated to be replaced by a mask of fury and loathing. Her own emotionally bare insides were stunned so much that she barely caught the furious glare Stormclaw was boring into her. Did he think she'd done this?

Her eyes remained fixed on the accused; the pale gray tom was visibly trembling uncontrollably. His mouth opened and closed without uttering a sound and his brown eyes flitted from one face to another in confusion and desperation.

"Tinyfang," Nettlestar's deep growl sounded monstrous to Ghost's ears, "You are the one who killed Wolfclaw. Now Stormclaw, my new, trusted deputy, you know what sort of punishment this wretched fox-heart deserves."

Horrific understanding shot through Ghost. This was a game, a game between Nettlestar and Stormclaw, a game Stormclaw was about to lose. A small gap was made for Stomclaw to pass through as he approached Tinyfang who looked at him desperately.

"You know I didn't kill him, don't you?" Tinyfang's voice was raspy and barely audible, his brown eyes searching desperately for some sign of support from his Clan. Stormclaw didn't respond, at least not with words, but with unsheathed claws he leaped for the terrified and trembling Tinyfang as roars of approval erupted around them.

Ghost's breathing quickened, that malicious aura bore through the back of her head. She knew with certainty that she was being watched from deep in the shadows by the same ominous presence which had haunted her since that first night on the hills above the lake.

And now it watched her not with killing intent, but with amusement. It was waiting to see what she would do next. Curious, cold, cruel. This was a game not only between Nettlestar and Stormclaw, but between her and this presence.

Narrowing her gaze and bracing her shoulders, she made up her mind. There had been no need for Wolfclaw to die in this game, and she wasn't going to allow Tinyfang to share the same fate. If this was a game where death and sorrow were the prizes, she would put an end to it.

**...**

**I've recently been reading and watching a lot of good books and shows (thanks to this little thing called quarantine) so I'm trying to use certain inspirations without really changing my story idea since I'm already 9 chapters in, but it's pretty hard!**

**Anyways, I don't want to waste your time. Leave a review if you feel like it (if you write, then you know how awesome it feels to get a review, and if not, it's like getting a good grade on a test you studied really hard for) and I hope to see you next time! **

**Oh, and stay safe and healthy! You can't read if you're dead _**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello out there! Hope you're all doing well in these crazy times. And sorry for the delay, as always, life had other plans than allowing me time to write in peace. **

**Thanks to all those who reviewed! And everyone who's still reading, honestly, you guys are the best :)**

**Ch. 10**

Yowls erupted in the snow-dusted hollow. Glinting eyes and shifting silhouette crowded the edge of a circle formed around the shadows of two cats. One was a powerful dark gray tom whose pelt appeared black in the deep night; his slicing yellow gaze was wider than usual, and his lips were pulled back in the snarl of a vicious predator. His hackles were raised and his back slightly arched, fury evident in every tensed muscle and bristling hair. As the onlookers leered, he continuously lashed downward with a rain of claws at the other cat in the encirclement.

By comparison to the ferocious energy displayed by the dark gray tom, the victim seemed dazed and limp. The small pale gray tom seemed to shrink in place until he was barely more than a lump in the snow. His brown eyes were glazed and the blood that splattered and dripped over his head and shoulders seemed unnoticed. Not a sound was uttered from his throat and it seemed he would fall over with the slightest push.

Behind the crowd of angry onlookers Ghost stood motionless and expressionless, feeling an emotion she couldn't begin to name. Her gaze was drawn to Nettlestar who also looked on, but with the curiosity of a cat watching two birds' squabble over a worm, waiting only to pounce on the victor as soon as it had snagged its victory. Her face hardened and her claws curled.

Foreign emotions and thoughts overwhelmed her, rushing over her like a crashing wave of water and spinning her in their depths as she searched and clawed futilely at specks of light that disappeared as soon as she reached out to grab hold of them.

Stormfang- put in a position where to prove his loyalty to his Clan and leader as well as his worth as a deputy, he had to kill one of his allies. Tinyfang, utterly confused, was as helpless as a newborn kit. He couldn't even raise his voice in defense and his feeble dodging was weakening as Stormfang inflicted more wounds. All the while the Clan looked on as one dark, furious, and vengeful beast.

How quick they'd been to turn on one of their own. But with only a little bit of evidence and a whole lot more confidence, Nettlestar had convinced them of Tinyfang's guilt and this was the only suitable punishment.

But Ghost couldn't let them go through with this. Stormfang needed his allies more than ever if he ever hoped to take over the Clan. And seeing Blackwillow's hollow eyes staring at the scene from Wolfclaw's corpse, she knew the she-cat was on the brink of giving up hope. Stormfang's ambition would fade away with Tinyfang's dying gasps and her mission would be failed.

But how to stop this? She had no evidence to counter Tinyfang's guilt. She had no evidence for the actual murderer. Nor did she have the same respect and confidence that Nettlestar enjoyed. Her speculations and gut feelings wouldn't be accepted by a Clan that did their best to avoid her. But what if she had enough of their confidence? What if she could persuade enough of the Clan to suspect there was another suspect?

All these thoughts had passed through her in a few heartbeats. Her instincts rebelled at the idea of taking such a gamble. Uncertainty and unnecessary risk were not in her nature, not in the nature that had been pounded into her over moons of training and many more moons of experience.

But tonight, in this snowy clearing filled with a suffocating miasma of hostility, Ghost took a hesitant step forward for the sake of someone else's life.

Marching forward, Ghost slipped between the ranks of cats that encircled the grisly fight that was more and more one-sided. She hesitated as she reached the front of the cats and could plainly see Stormfang and Tinyfang no more than two tail-lengths away from her.

Stormfang, with his fur puffed up and his fangs showing in a vicious snarl resembled an enraged fox rather than the cool and calm cat he usually presented himself as. And Tinyfang, his own blood splattered over his fur where he had been wounded, was crouched on the ground as if he were trying to hide from the wrath of his own Clan. His eyes, limpid and brown, were devoid of hope and full of fear—and maybe a little hate.

Drawing in a deep breath to steady herself against her own screaming instincts, Ghost braced herself and stepped out into the clear, launching herself between Stormfang and Tinyfang as the gray tom moved in to continue his attack. "Stop!" her voice rang out in the cold air and for a few precarious heartbeats, everyone fell silent.

Not a single hair on her pelt moved as the silence lengthened and she held Stormfang's yellow gaze as it changed from shock to rage. "Move, this is Clan business," he snarled, taking a step towards her, and looming over her, the hatred in his eyes and venom in his voice assured her his threat was real.

Ghost held his gaze, eyes wide, without moving. The Clan, recovering from its shock, was growing restless and angry. With their revenge interrupted, irritation flared as cats started making their annoyance heard.

"Stop interrupting, rogue!"

"You're no warrior, you have no right to speak out!"

"Look, she's defending a murderer, maybe there's a feeling of kinship there!"

"We can't keep a rogue who disrespects our code and leader to remain in this camp, drive her out and avenge Wolfclaw!"

"Nettlestar!" her voice carried clear over the heads of the assembled cats to the leader who was looking on, a displeased look on his face as she called his name. "I understand that I am not a warrior or part of this Clan. However, I consider Tinyfang a friend and I cannot watch him die while I harbor doubts of his guilt." Silence returned, Ghost had no idea how the Clan would react, would they listen to her or drive her out?

"Silence!" a hiss came close to her right ear and Ghost turned her head to see Silverfern stalk out of the wall of cats. Her green eyes glinted angrily in the dark as the tabby she-cat approached her so closely that Ghost had to take a step back to continue guarding Tinyfang who remained mute and motionless as if he hadn't even realized she was defending him.

"You doubt Nettlestar's investigation? The murderer is clearly that _thing_." Silverfern spat in Tinyfang's direction, fury flaring in her gaze like bright embers. "Betraying the Clan and killing a noble warrior can only be atoned with death. If you insist on protecting him, you should die to."

Before the words had left her mouth, Silverfern flung herself at Ghost's head. Eyes narrowed, Ghost dug her hind-paws into the ground and lifted herself up, tucking in her chin so that the top of her head connected with Silverfern's chin with a loud smack.

The silver tabby reeled backwards with a shriek of pain, blood dripping from her mouth as she stumbled backward, shaking her head wildly as if to ease the pain. Ghost lowered herself, her hind-paws hadn't moved a hairs length.

Silence again ensued, but Ghost was the one to break it this time. "Nettlestar," she again turned to the leader who had reached the row of the crowd, cats moving to make a corridor through the crowd. "The evidence you gave for Tinyfang's guilt was a tuft of his fur found on the claw of the respected Wolfclaw, correct?"

Nettlestar, his eyes narrowed to slits, gave a slight nod of assent.

"I do not believe that is indisputable proof. The killer could have put that tuft of fur on Wolfclaw to make it _appear _as if Tinyfang was the killer to deflect suspicion and hide their own identity."

Nettlestar tilted his head, "But the scent was fresh, and how would they have kept their own scent off of the fur when carrying it to the corpse?"

Ghost paused for a moment, she knew how it could be done, but how many innocent, naïve rogues would know? Nettlestar's eyes were inescapable, she had to be careful or else she would give away her true nature.

"Perhaps… they carried it on the edge of a stick, away from themselves." Her suggestion was met with murmurings of a disgruntled, confused, and significantly less angry crowd. The Clan was being persuaded, reason was returning to the cats, breaking through the fog of fury.

Silverfern had climbed back to her paws, stumbling against her Clan-mates on the fringe of the clearing. Shaking her head again, she spat blood on the pure white snow and glared at Ghost, "But what if he really is the one who killed Wolfclaw?" the she-cat growled, her green eyes malignant.

"And what if he isn't?" Ghost pushed the question calmly, staring unflinching at the furious cat. "Will you kill your own Clan-mate, whom you've known all your life, when there is the possibility that he isn't guilty? What would your StarClan think?" Another silence met her words and now Ghost could smell fear mixing in with the Clan.

Ghost hesitated and turned to face Nettlestar again. The conversation had gone almost as well as she could have hoped. The cats had calmed down, they were no longer hungry for blood, and her reasonings had been met with a healthy amount of both skepticism and consideration.

The winds had shifted, how would Nettlestar proceed? She couldn't predict how he'd act; he could still order Tinyfang's death and she didn't doubt the Clan would swallow their suspicions and carry out the order.

But they wouldn't be happy about it and the doubts would grow. She knew one thing from watching the gangs in the city, a leader without the trust of his subordinates was no leader at all. That was why this cat with beady green eyes was hesitating.

Finally, Nettlestar spoke, his voice sounding like it was being dragged through a patch of nettles. "I acknowledge your opinion. We will more fully investigate Wolfclaw's murder for other possible culprits. However," the leader stepped forward so that he was right in front of the trembling Tinyfang that seemed to shrink in the shadow of the leader.

"Tinyfang, you are still the main suspect and so we must ensure you do not run away while we are investigating," Nettlestar spoke softly, almost apologetically.

Tinyfang shook his head hastily and spoke up for the first time, "I won't, I swear I didn't do it."

Ghost felt a shiver at the cold look Nettlestar gave the warrior, as if he were looking at a rotting piece of crow-food rather than one of his own warriors. Ghost opened her mouth and took a step toward Tinyfang in panic, but before she could even set a paw back down on the frosted snow Nettlestar had wrenched Tinyfang's legs from beneath him and a terrible crack split the air as Tinyfang's front left leg was broken.

The gray tom's shrieks of pain were muffled as Nettlestar shoved his face in the snow, calmly turning to the Clan that hadn't moved a muscle since the leader had entered the ring. Even Stormfang didn't flinch, his yellow gaze fixated on Nettlestar as if he were unaware of Tinyfang's body that shook violently as he struggled to endure the pain.

"Oakleaf, tend to Tinyfang's leg. If he is innocent, we'll want him to be able to use it again. And if he's guilty," Nettlestar's eyes glazed, "He won't be needing it anyways. Finchclaw, you'll take first watch over him, he will be guarded at all times until the investigation is over."

Ghost's tail brushed lightly over the snow and the leader's eyes flashed back to her. "Alright, Fog, since you are the one advocating for Tinyfang's innocence, you shall be in charge of the investigation."

Her gray eyes narrowed, and mews of protest broke out around her. It worked better for her if she oversaw the investigation, but because she was only a guest and not a Clan-cat, it was unusual that Nettlestar gave her the job. Besides, if he were aware of Stormfang's intentions and suspected their likely connection, what sense was there in giving her the job of proving Tinyfang—another of Stormfang's supporters—innocent?

_I can almost see the spiderwebs tightening around us._ A thrill went up her spine at the thought though. She'd been excited by the prospect of fighting Wolfclaw until she saw how much pain would be caused at his passing. But this cat, Nettlestar, there would be nothing to take away from her enjoyment when she cut him down. She was sure his blood would only taste sweet in her mouth.

"You will have the full support of the Clan, if you ask anything from any of them, they will aid in the investigation. The only rule is that some cat has to accompany you if you speak with Tinyfang and if you cannot prove his innocence, you will be exiled from all Clan territory," Ghost listened closely to the rules of the game Nettlestar presented. They were reasonable enough, except for that last part which suggested some sort of time limit.

"How long will the investigation last?" she straightened and stared straight into those predatory green eyes.

"Well, the longer the search lasts the less likely it is you will be able to find any clues or evidence. Therefore, you will have five days, or until the next quarter moon. If you cannot find another suspect, you will be exiled and Tinyfang killed. Wolfclaw must be able to rest with justice, so there will be no delay to justice. I pray to StarClan that your search will be successful."

"And now," Nettlestar turned and walked out of the loose encirclement of cats that had broken up a little after Finchclaw and Oakleaf had taken Tinyfang to the medicine-cat den. All eyes followed the leader as he returned to the cold corpse of Wolfclaw which lay abandoned except for Deerheart who had returned and buried her nose back into her mate's stiff fur.

The sky was lightening into a dismal gray and dawn would be breaking at any moment. The fury in the air had dissipated back into the cold grief that had laid heavily on the camp the day before. The dark brown tom turned his head to look back at the Clan, eyes void of emotion but his voice was gentle and commanding, like a mother leading guiding their kit by voice. "It is time, before we return to our duties let us bury Wolfclaw."

**…..**

"Who killed you?" Ghost whispered the words thoughtfully, sitting in from of the freshly dug up mound of dirt where Wolfclaw had been laid down not long before. The rest of the cats had returned to the camp to begin their daily duties, but she remained, contemplating what had occurred the night before and what she should do next.

Wolfclaw was dead and Stormfang was deputy, just as he wanted. That was suspicious to Ghost, she was certain Nettlestar at least suspected Stormfang's hostility, so why put him in such a key position when he clearly had other loyal warriors? To Ghost, it smelled like a challenge, a dare, for Stormfang.

The second part that was suspicious was that Wolfclaw had been found so soon after death, almost immediately after she had left the scene a patrol had found him. And Nettlestar happened to be on that patrol and found the incriminating fur. Fur that hadn't been there when Ghost had found the slain deputy, still warm and bleeding out.

These two facts made Nettlestar her prime suspect. But she knew it couldn't have been him. To begin with, he'd been in the camp when Wolfclaw had left and Ghost had followed him the whole way up until she laid her ambush. Nettlestar had left with the patrol just past midnight and followed Wolfclaw's route which was out of the way and led to nowhere.

To Ghost it seemed that Nettlestar had known the murder would happen, but he hadn't been the one to kill him. Ghost sighed and leaned back on her haunches, of course the only two cats that had useful information was a leader who wasn't going to tell her anything and a dead cat.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in the cold air, feeling its sharpness flow through her and fill her with renewed energy. She had five days, that was all the time she needed. Her eyes opened as her ears detected the faint tread of paws on snow-covered pine needles.

"Stormfang," she greeted the tom with a wave of her tail, leaping away as the outraged feline lunged for her. "You always have such a warm greeting for me," she sighed, facing the tom that was breathing heavily, his breaths hanging in heavy plumes before his muzzle and he glared at her with slanted eyes that shone with loathing.

"How dare you," he growled, tail lashing, "how dare you frame Tinyfang for your own murder!"

Ghost was unperturbed by the accusation; she'd been expecting it. Although she found a sort of ironic pleasure in his way of phrasing it. "I suppose you mean the murder you ordered me to commit?"

Stormfang growled, he seemed to be struggling to keep his voice down. "What are you playing at? Why did you do those things? It doesn't make any sense."

Ghost sighed heavily; this was going to be a waste of time. "I will tell you a few things that I know but I am not going to take time to prove them. I don't have that time and you don't have a choice whether to believe me or not."

She led him away from the grave to a secluded area of shadow where a dip in the ground was covered in part by a fern bush encrusted with snow. Settling into the hollow, Stormfang stood glaring down at her from the lip for a few moments before joining her, his fur brushing against hers as he got settled. But his glare never lifted and seemed to intensify.

"First, I didn't kill Wolfclaw. He was dead by the time I reached him," she shook her head as the gray tom opened his mouth, "I don't know who or why he was killed, nor can I prove I didn't do it since the killer left no trace. I do, however, know that the fur evidence wasn't there at that time. I suspect Nettlestar planted it and was aware of the murder before it happened."

Stormfang dug his claws into the snow, "If that's true, does that mean Nettlestar killed his own deputy? Why?" The tom didn't seem convinced and was moments away from slashing her ears.

Ghost shrugged; her expression veiled. "It definitely seems unlikely, given Wolfclaw's fierce loyalty to him. But he took advantage of the situation to try to get rid of Tinyfang and you. I believe he hoped you would refuse so that he could turn the Clan against the both of you and finish you off there. But you're more dedicated than he believed so when I went in to amend the plan and save Tinyfang, he agreed."

Stormfang's eyes had widened and then narrowed in concentration, "So you think that during the investigation he is somehow going to make it appear that I am the murderer? Or an accomplice?"

Ghost shrugged, "Possibly." _More likely, he'll kill you and pin it on Tinyfang again. Or else kill you both outright and pin it on some cat else. _"However, if we can find the real murderer, we could even possibly expose Nettlestar's plans. If that happened, wouldn't the Clan turn against him, making your assumption to leadership assured?"

Stormfang was nodding, "You're right, this is a good chance. Even his most loyal warriors won't stand by him if he killed Wolfclaw. Not even fear would control them then."

Ghost relaxed, she would probably need Stormfang's help with the investigation and it would be easier if he weren't spitting wrath at her constantly. "You seem to know a lot about murder," the tom mewed, looking up at her sharply.

A mrrow of laughter spilled from Ghost's lips before she could swallow it, "I know I haven't been acting it, but I am still an assassin. Among the groups of cats in the city, murder is almost an everyday occurrence. Motives are varied, but patterns are predictable enough, so it's easy to find out who's responsible."

Ghost stood up, shaking a bit of snow from her shoulders that had dropped off the fern bush. "Alright, deputy, I'll be needing your help later. But for now, I want to check out something else first."

**…..**

"Are you three busy?" Ghost asked cheerfully. The three apprentices flinched at her sudden appearence. They had been training in the moss clearing that was coated in snow and mud and their messy fur and panting breaths made it clear that they were, in fact, occupied.

The three apprentices paused their battle practice and glanced at each other questioningly. "Your mentors aren't here?" she asked, turning her head to scan the gray shadows around the edges of the clearing.

Owlpaw spoke up first, "No, they told us to practice until sun-high and then return to camp for afternoon duties."

"Perfect," Ghost mewed, padding closer to the three of them. They seemed to shuffle closer to each other defensively. "I need a little favor from the three of you, it won't take long, and it's for the investigation."

At those words Owlpaw's widened in distress while Fogpaw's gaze dropped to his paws. But Firepaw met her gaze boldly, "Our mentors said the culprit is definitely Tinyfang and not to help you."

"Did they now?" Ghost's ears twitched in surprise, "Even Stormfang?" she questioned, lowering her head to be level with the ginger she-cat's.

Firepaw didn't blink, "He wasn't here this morning, he was busy with deputy duties."

Ghost closed her eyes and shrugged casually, "But Nettlestar said that any cat I asked to help me had to help me, right? Isn't Nettlestar's word above your mentors?" _He probably counted on the Clan being unwilling to help me. Let a rogue tell them what to do? No self-respecting warrior would do that, but…_ She opened her eyes to watch as the apprentices whispered to each other in counsel for a moment, _they aren't warriors. _

"What do you want us to do?" Fogpaw asked eventually, seeming uncomfortable in the way he shifted weight from side to side and gave his messy chest fur a few quick licks.

"Nothing much, I just want you to show me where the cats usually bring their old bedding when they change it. Only the queens and elders bedding are put in the dirtplace, so where are the others left?"

Owlpw frowned, green eyes unfocused in confusion, "Why do you want to know that?"

Ghost purred and touched her tail to the tortoiseshell's shoulder. The less the three knew, the better. "Don't worry about that," the three apprentices seemed nervous, but couldn't think of any reason not to show her so they assented.

Fogpaw and Owlpaw led the way along a thin trail that went to the backside of the camp while Firepaw fell back to her side, amber eyes fixated on the backs of her littermates. "Do you really think Tinyfang is innocent?" the she-cat's voice was quiet, barely audible despite the silence that was disturbed only by the faint tread of their paws upon the brittle coating of snow.

Ghost glanced at her, surprised by the seriousness of her tone. "That is why I'm risking my neck to save him," she responded candidly, her mask had been cracked the night before, she doubted any cat in the Clan believed her to be meek and helpless after her performance.

Firepaw gave her a quick glance, "But why? Sure, you two met on that journey, but you've hardly spoken since you came back. You don't know him as well as any other cat in this Clan and you're not really his friend. So why..?" the apprentice's question died on her tongue and Ghost noticed the swirling storm in her amber depths.

"Why am I the only one who stood up for him?" Ghost guessed her question.

Firepaw nodded, bitterness quickly enshrouding her expression. "When he was accused, no cat defended him, he hardly defended himself! It doesn't make any sense, just the day before Brackenfoot and Tinyfang shared tongues like they do every day, and he helped Oakleaf collect herbs, and brought food to the elders when I forgot… How could he have killed Wolfclaw? It doesn't make any sense. It makes even less sense that everyone believed he was the killer!" Firepaw stopped and whirled around, amber eyes flaring with anger.

Ghost felt a strange tightness in her chest, and she was hesitant to answer the she-cat, her own eyes being glued on the righteous fury that seemed to envelop the fiery apprentice. But it soon died away, leaving Firepaw's shoulders slumped and eyes exhausted, "But I guess if Nettlestar said so, it must be true…"

The red she-cat began plodding forward despondently and Ghost followed, not knowing what to say. "Don't you think it's possible Nettlestar was wrong?" she ventured, confused by the apprentice's behavior. Firepaw was usually energetic and cheerful, this strange seriousness and confusion, along with the burst of anger and subsequent depression was more expected from the temperamental Owlpaw than the stubborn Firepaw.

"That's why you're investigating, right? You think he's wrong," Firepaw asked sharply, eyes growing gloomier. "But Nettlestar's never wrong… to even think otherwise is an insult to StarClan. At least, that's what everyone else says."

Ghost was a little perturbed. She'd noticed Nettlestar commanded an unusually fierce loyalty, but this dominance over thought and opinion had gone unnoticed. But thinking back, except for the elders and Stormfang's group, no word of argument or opposition had ever been uttered by a cat in this Clan.

Her claws curled and gray ears tilted outward, she had thought that the fury turned on Tinyfang last night had been the result of emotions bursting and needing an outlet which Nettlestar had directed for them. But that wasn't quite it, she should have realized it when no cat offered to help her or defended Tinyfang even when the emotions had dissipated. Additionally, the fact the mentors had ordered their apprentices not to help her pushed the thought forward.

To Nettlestar and the Clan, the purpose of this investigation wasn't to prove Tinyfang's innocence, but his guilt. And it was a convenient way to get rid of her. _But why is Nettlestar so certain I won't be able to prove Tinyfang's innocence when we both know it's the truth? _

She smelled danger. She was walking right into a trap; she knew she was. Her instincts wanted nothing more than to get her far away from the Clans. Was this going to be her downfall? She licked her muzzle in anticipation, gray eyes gleaming daringly in the direction of the camp. She couldn't guarantee her safety, but she wasn't going to let things go Nettlestar's way. How lovely would it be if she could entangle him in his own trap?

"We're here!" The apprentices up ahead waved their tails and Firepaw hurried to meet them, her amber eyes back to their usual brightness and her tone as carefree as ever.

"I doubt you'll find anything but ticks here though," the ginger cat mewed with a wrinkle of her nose.

"Thank you, all three of you. This is enough, you can go back to your regular duties. It's almost sun-high and I won't mention you helped me to your mentors," Ghost mewed, looking down at the ditch that was full of tossed out moss and bracken in a jumble of musty pine-needles. A thin trail of water ran at the bottom, pooling in a murky pool of pine-needles and mud at the lowest point of the ditch.

The apprentices visibly relaxed at the news that their mentors wouldn't be informed of this excursion and they left quickly without a word goodbye. Turning her attention to the ditch of moss, mush, and slush, Ghost wrinkled her nose. The ditch was mustier than the pelt of a soggy dog on a hot day and there were moons of old moss thrown carelessly into the ditch.

She was filled with doubt about her assumption. She was sure this was the most likely place the fur found on Wolfclaw's claws had come from, but was that true? If she could find Tinyfang's old bedding, she would surely find some of his fur. But that was suddenly looking like a big 'if.'

Trying not to gag against the smell, Ghost carefully climbed down into the ditch, her legs straining as she fought to keep her footing on the ground that was made more of mud than solid earth. At the bottom of the ditch, she sank into the mass of mud and slimy moss nearly to her belly. _The apprentices won't be happy about the smell tonight._

Looking around, she tried to find where some fresher moss had more recently been deposited, but the moss all looked the same—green and lumpy and foul-smelling. Her nose failed her as well, she couldn't distinguish fresh and old scents, and she could only pick up the general scent of ShadowClan and not individual cats.

Ghost scowled as she started nosing around the ditch, _for all I know, the killer found Tinyfang's fur on a gorse or bramble bush. _But she didn't think that was likely, there weren't many prickly bushes in the pine forest, and she would have noticed if Tinyfang had recently been scratched from being tangled up in a bush.

Looking around the ditch, she figured it was possible the killer had just grabbed the first fresh piece of fur he'd found, but she was sure Tinyfang had been targeted specifically because of his secret alliance with Stormfang. _But Tinyfang's old bedding isn't here!_

Frustration swamped her as she waded through the muddy, mossy ditch. The only reasonably fresh moss she'd found belonged to Brackenfoot, but there was nothing else that was fresh near the pile of moss. Giving up, she clawed her way up the slippery sides of the ditch and stood, shaking each leg out in turn, and giving her fur a dismayed sniff. _If I don't wash this off before grooming, I won't be able to enjoy food for a moon. _

Ghost padded a few paces away and laid down in a patch of untouched snow, vigorously wriggling around to scratch herself against the cold ground before jumping back to her paws. Giving a firm shake, she was satisfied to see much of the mud had come off. Although now she had pine needles from under the snow stuck into her pelt as well.

The pine needles attracted her attention. Snow had begun falling around the time of Wolfclaw's murder, which meant if the murderer had come here, any evidence would be beneath the snow. Even if she couldn't find Tinyfang's old bedding, if her assumption were right, the killer should have come here before going to murder Wolfclaw.

Encouraged by her revelation, Ghost started using her tail to sweep away the snow from the edges of the ditch, trying to be gentle enough so as not to disturb any evidence that might lie out of sight.

She started near the trail close to camp and was encouraged when she could make out paw marks in the pine needles under the snow. Following along the edge of the ditch, she continued to slowly brush the snow away with her tail—wishing all along that she had longer fur like Robin.

There were no more paw marks on the side of the ditch the trail from camp led to, but on the opposite side she found some faint evidence although she admitted to herself that it could also belong to a squirrel or other rodent digging in the pine-needles.

Looking down, she saw below in the ditch was the freshest moss she had found, that of Brackenfoot. Perhaps these were his pawprints, or another ShadowClan cat, or another animal. Or the killer. The possibility that these pawprints did not belong the murderer did not supersede the possibility that they were that of the killer.

But tracking them would be difficult. There was no scent and she was sure there would not be a clear trail under the snow, even if it were feasible that she could clear the snow off in a timely manner. However, she could make a guess as to where the killer had gone.

The scent of Tinyfang's fur had been fresh, meaning, the killer had probably taken the fur with them when they went to kill Wolfclaw. To do that, they would have taken a direct route to the place of Wolfclaw's death, and as she uncovered more of the trail, she felt a warm feeling of approval that it was headed directly to the site of the murder.

Slowly, meticulously, she brushed snow from the trail until her tail bone grew weary. But she kept on, feeling like she was crawling along at the pace of a bug. After what felt like a trek to the other side of the lake but was in reality barely out of sight of the moss ditch, the trail ended. The faint indents in the pine needles halted abruptly, and even as she searched a wide area in case the creature had jumped, she found no more prints.

Most would see this as a frustrating turn of events, but Ghost couldn't be more thrilled. Cats and other rodents didn't simply grow wings and fly away. And no bird walked for such a long time on the ground. Meaning that the creature who had left these marks had _hidden their trail._

Any why would a cat hide their trail? Because they didn't want to be tracked. A Clan cat wouldn't worry about such a thing on their own territory. And given the directness of the route towards the place of Wolfclaw's murder, Ghost was almost certain this trail was left by the killer.

But as she'd thought before, cats didn't simply vanish, so how could the killer have ended their trail while still making their way to kill Wolfclaw? While a cat couldn't fly, they could imitate it. Ghost looked up, squinting her eyes against the faint light that filtered down between the pine branches.

Looking around, Ghost scrutinized the pines that were closest to her position. The pine branches were too high here to leap onto one directly, even she would need to use the trunk to climb up. And there were only three pines within any reasonable distance for a cat to spring onto like a squirrel.

Touching her nose to the frozen wood, the heavy scent of pine seemed to drown out all other scents. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, drinking in the air and searching for some scent other than pine.

But it was no good, she still wasn't as good with her nose as she could be. In the city, scents were difficult to trace and they were often muddled or disappeared quickly in the ever-changing landscape. It was sight and instinct that were her main tools in the city, but here, on frozen pinewood, she could see no abrasions at all in the softwood.

She unsheathed her own claws and leapt onto the tree, keeping her hind paws sheathed as she propelled herself up like the Clan-cats were trained to do. Once she reached the first fork of branches, she stopped and looked down. As expected, fresh claw marks showed a faint—but clearly visible—trail.

With a sigh, she laid down on the branch and swung her right foreleg through the air, clawing at nothing as her frown deepened. The cat had vanished on the spot, or perhaps they were somehow strong enough to leap to the branches? But that would be an incredible feat, even the agility and power of her father wouldn't make such a thing feasible.

She looked up through the canopy of pine branches, the light was starting to fade—sunset was closing in and she felt no closer to the killer than she had been this morning. But Tinyfang didn't have time for her to sit here, she needed to find the trick and quick.

Leaping back onto the snowy ground, she circled the spot where the trail disappeared. If she'd been trying to hide her trail, she would have chosen the trees. It was habit, in the city she used the rooftops, leaping from one roof to another made it impossible to track her and most cats couldn't follow her there to begin with. But the trees were different, it was difficult, but tracking from tree to tree was possible and with how closely the pines stood together it wouldn't even be extraordinarily difficult.

So, did they use a different trick? She stared at the snow as if it would somehow give her the answer, her claws curling in impatience.

"Fog!" a voice broke her concentration and she jerked her head up and looked behind her. Stormfang was approaching her at a brisk lope, an annoyed look on his face. _What now? _She groaned inwardly, she thought they'd reached an agreement, but it seemed he had another complaint.

"I thought you were busy being deputy," she asked with narrowed eyes. He was out of breath and his steps were heavier than usual. On top of that, his usually well-groomed pelt was a bit ruffled. He was exhausted. So why had he tracked her all the way out here? What was so important?

Stormfang stopped in front of her and took a moment to catch his breath, his sharp gaze darting around their surroundings before turning back to her. She felt that uncomfortable, squirming feeling as he pinned her with a stare that she couldn't meet but couldn't look away from.

"Don't involve the apprentices," he growled sharply.

"What?" She was taken back, she thought he was going to complain about her methods, but she hadn't expected that.

"Firepaw and the others shouldn't be involved, it's too dangerous. Keep them out of the investigation and out of the plans. If we're found out, Nettlestar won't hesitate to punish them if it looks like they were helping us. That's why I won't involve anyone besides us four, I don't think I made that clear enough to you before," he drew himself up so that his shadow loomed over her. Even fatigued, he was still capable of imposing a threatening aura.

But Ghost had no interest in his intimidation. She would follow his orders because that's what she'd been hired to do, not because she was scared. Did it matter that he didn't seem to know the difference? Probably not, but it annoyed her to bow her head in submission. _Not that an employer has never acted like this before… I wonder why it's so irritating now._

"Fine, I guess Firepaw told you about helping me. I won't ask for their help again, even though they just showed me where the Clan deposits old bedding. By the way," she shot him a sharp look. "If you were trying to hide your tracks, how would you do it?"

Stormfang stared blankly at her for a second and then looked around, "You were following tracks? I only saw yours."

Ghost flicked her tail impatiently, "Yes, they were under the snow," her mew was curt, "But don't worry about that, how would you keep someone from tracking you?"

"Walk along a stream," Stormfang answered.

"But there's no stream here or where Wolfclaw was killed. And doing that when it's so cold could freeze your paws right off."

"Then…" Stormfang narrowed his eyes and looked around, his eyes landing on the branches overhead, "The trees-?"

"I thought so too, but you could track a scent through the trees if it were fresh enough. Our killer is too good for that," Ghost sighed.

Stormfang growled, "That fox-heart Nettlestar will pay for this, how did he do this?"

Ghost snorted, shaking her head, "If there's one thing I learned on this investigation it's this: Wolfclaw wasn't killed by a Clan-cat."

"How can you be sure?" his tone was suspicious, but not bitter.

"This trail is proof enough," Ghost waved her tail at the trail she'd followed. "If it were a Clan cat, they wouldn't need to have hidden themselves like this. In fact, hiding would make it even more obvious. This was the work of an outsider who carefully covered their tracks and then framed it on Tinyfang. Probably at Nettlestar's request, but it wasn't Nettlestar or any of his lackey's who killed Wolfclaw."

"That mouse-hear!" Stormfang's eyes flashed, "He even killed his own deputy, one of his staunchest supporters, why?! Just to pin it on Tinyfang? And how?!"

_That's what I'd like to know._ Motive wasn't something Ghost usually thought about, but these circumstances were unsettling. It seemed nonsensical to kill such a strong ally, so why? She felt like she could see it dangling right before her eyes, thin as a spiderweb that gleamed in and out of sight. Her chest tightened and she felt a thrill of fear down her spine.

"Let's just focus on catching the killer," she growled, pushing her fears from her mind. They needed to catch the real culprit and release Tinyfang, then they could kill Nettlestar and this would all be over. Her gut was telling her that the sooner they accomplished this the better.

"I'm not used to tracking in the forest, so I need you to think hard. Are there any tricks that you've heard about or seen before? Any idea at all?" she stared intently into Stormfang's eyes; they were still fiery with anger, but they were edged like sharp talons.

The gray tom fell quiet for a few minutes while Ghost gave the trees one last inspection. "I once spoke to a WindClan cat about tracking rabbits… We don't see very many in these parts of the woods, but they're everywhere on the moor. The WindClan cat said that rabbits are clever and sometimes to hide their trail they backtrack over their own tracks."

Ghost fixed him with a hard stare, _back-tracking?_ She'd never heard of it, but as Stormfang explained how rabbits would backtrack by putting their paws in the exact same pawprints they had made, certainty swelled in her.

"That technique it pointless in a city setting, but here in the forest…" she muttered to herself. "Then they probably escaped on one of the trees along the route out here," she mewed, turning her gaze to the trail she'd followed to this point.

Ghost started stalking back along the trail, eyes glancing sharply at the trees nearest the trail. Stormfang trotted behind her, "Is it even possible to pick out the right tree along the whole route?" he growled.

Ghost nodded without glancing at him, her eyes glued to the tree trunks, looking for the slightest scratch in their surface. Her nose could be tricked, but she had confidence in her eyes. "Yes, and we shouldn't have to look along the whole route, they wouldn't have backtracked very far since they were in a hurry to intercept WolfClaw and the trail ended at the closest point to the murder."

They needed to hurry, the light was fading fast and even her eyes wouldn't be able to see a light scratch in the dark shadows that the pine trees cast over the woods. Close to half-way back to the moss ditch she paused, the palest scratch on the surface of a tree catching her eye.

The tree was behind two other trees that were closer to the trail and which cast it in shadow. It stood about four fox-lengths away, a possible leaping distance, but only for an extremely powerful cat. "Is that it?" Stormfang asked as she got closer to examine it. There was only one scratch and it was wide and jagged; it didn't look like claw marks made from climbing.

Ghost frowned and instinctively turned around to look at the other two trees. _There they are…_ The tree on her right had a set of claw marks like what you'd expect for climbing marks, even though they were faint and far apart. But the marks were on the backside, they couldn't be seen from the trail, her tail went up as she realized the trick.

"That's the tree," she mewed, nodding at the claw marks. "The cat must have used this one as a spring to leap off and onto this tree. They must have tried to keep their claws sheathed, but still scratched it a little," she mewed, nodding at the tree with the irregular mark.

"That's sloppy," Stormfang grunted, "Go through all that trouble and still leave a sign. But I guess that's good for us," he added. Ghost was quiet, concentrating for a moment before leaping up into the tree and breathing in deeply. Sure enough, there was a faint cat scent, too faint to discern much, but it was not a Clan cat.

"I have a trail, let's go," she mewed, starting to trot along the branches.

"Right now?" Stormfang sounded surprised. Surprised and tired.

Ghost peered down, twilight had taken over sunset and the gray light was darkening by the second. "The trail is already faint; it'll be gone by morning. It's now or never."

"But didn't you say this would lead to the site of WolfClaw's murder? We already know where that is." _Why is he arguing? Is he stupid?_

"I couldn't find the scent at the murder site, even though I was there right after it happened. But if we follow this trail, we may be able to find it. If you're tired, you can go back to camp, but neither Tinyfang nor I can afford to not take this chance. I'll take down the murderer myself," she growled.

Stormfang stared up at her silently for a moment, expression unreadable. "I'll follow from the ground," he growled, turning his face so that she couldn't see his gaze. "You lead," he commanded.

Ghost wondered at his behavior for a moment before shaking her head, "Alright, let's go."

**...**

**I can't believe this is already chapter 10! It's a longer chapter, and it was supposed to be even longer. But I figured this was a good place to stop and get it posted, I hope you all enjoyed it! I don't think Stormfang has had so much page time since the start of the story, I feel like I'm rediscovering when writing ^^ **

**Hopefully the next chapter will be up faster now that I've finished summer school (even though summer technically just started ^^;) But I think my goal of finishing the story this summer may be a bit difficult. Haha...**

**Anyways, feel free to leave a comment below! I appreciate them, but I appreciate you reading even more so I hope you'll at least come back!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Summer salutations! It's summer and it's hot and I want to melt in a puddle on the ground. **

**Thank you everyone who continues to read this and especially those that leave reviews, literally nothing makes me happier ^^**

**Ch. 11**

Two lithe figures crept over the snow-covered pine needles, the shadows of the pine trees casting long, black stripes through which they weaved. One stalked along the tree boughs, as light as a feather, while the other shadowed the figure from the ground. Twilight's gray light fell thicker upon the pine forest, like a blanket of fog that distorted the landscape into a shapeless and colorless mass.

But the two cats strode on, unperturbed by the lack of light, seemingly guided by instinct along an unseen trail. "This must be where they ambushed Wolfclaw," Ghost touched her nose to the thick pine wood, the faintest cat scent still lingered there, slightly stronger than the rest of the trail.

That meant they had been there for a longer period, such as when waiting to ambush someone. It was also the end of the trail. Now this was the tricky part, the enemy had ambushed Wolfclaw and then retreated quickly. She had to assume they had returned to the trees, because she hadn't found any scents or traces around Wolfclaw.

But they hadn't returned to their ambush spot, so she felt she was back at the start. The trees here had branches low enough to be leapt to from the ground without having to use the trunk, so there would be no claw marks in the tree bark to look for.

"Did you find anything?" she called down to Stormfang who was staring at the spot where Wolfclaw had perished. Traces of blood still stained the snow and the scent of death stubbornly clung to the area.

Stormfang looked up, his yellow gaze blank, "No." The tom's countenance was void of emotion as he stood upon the spot his predecessor breathed his last. Strange as it felt, had things gone according to plan, the two of them would be the killers in this murder mystery.

But fate had kept them from that role, Ghost wondered if it filled Stormfang with relief or regret. Now they had to find the real murderer who had stolen the role away from them from right under their noses.

_They had to have used the trees, I didn't see anyone leaving and there isn't much foliage to hide behind… _Thinking back, the night had been silent and still, but how was that possible? Even when she moved through the trees, there was a tiny bit of motion. It was unavoidable when you moved from one branch to the other, when your weight was lifted off a branch, even if you moved slowly, there was movement.

But she hadn't noticed a thing. That meant one of two things, either the murder hadn't been as fresh as she first thought—although she was certain she had gotten there only moments after the killer had been there. Or the killer had found a way to vanish into thin air.

Neither option sat right with her, but what else was there? Could the killer have really been there, and she'd missed them? She was loathed to admit she would be so easily deceived; she had spent her life training her senses, how could they have failed her?

But perhaps pride wasn't going to serve her well here. Taking another look around she pondered what she would have done. Disappearing into thin air under the noses of cats was an art she practiced vigorously. If there had been a skilled cat near her target, how would she have gotten away?

_Well, I probably would have waited for them to be gone, but I guess this killer doesn't see me as much of a threat…_ Her claws curled and she felt hot despite the chilly wind that blew flurries from off the pine branches into her fur.

She would bet her pride as an assassin that the killer had used the trees to leave the area. And the scent of blood should have lingered in one of the trees, but she found nothing. Had they had time to clean up before leaving? But in that case, they would have seen her and if they had waited in one spot for her to leave, their scent would certainly have been left behind. Even her scent lasted if she sat in one place for too long.

Ghost felt like she was groping blindly through a black mud puddle. Everything was dark, confusing, and muddled. Anger flared in her chest; she was an assassin not an investigator! She created mysteries, not solve them! Why was she sitting in a cold pine tree, looking for a clue that may not even exist?

"Fog!" Stormfang's sudden call snapped her from her frustrated thoughts. "Check that tree over there," she peered through the dark at the pine tree he was angling his tail at. It was a smaller pine tree with lots of thin, low hanging branches and it was full of pinecones. It stood a bit apart from the other trees, but not so far that a cat wouldn't be able to give a flying leap from one to the other.

Ghost frowned, if a cat had made such a leap, she certainly would have noticed. But she wasn't accomplishing anything asides from freezing her paws off, so she jumped to the ground and raced over to the tree, keeping her claws sheathed as she leapt onto one of the branches.

The cloying pine scent enveloped her like a thick blanket and her senses were filled by it. Sticky pine sap seeped onto her fur and she squinted her eyes in distaste—first mud, now pine sap, she would need a new pelt before long.

"Is there a reason you want me to be covered in pine sap?" she snapped down at Stormfang who gazed up with narrowed yellow eyes.

"If the killer had used this tree to hide, the pine scent is so strong that their scent would have been completely overwhelmed. They could have stayed here until dawn and we wouldn't have a scent to show for it," he growled.

Ghost acknowledged his point, if the cat had hidden in the shadows of the branches without moving, she wouldn't have noticed them. She let out a sigh and licked one of her sap stained paws, scrunching her eyes at how it stuck stubbornly to her fur. "If that's the case, how do we track them? We're surrounded by pine trees, there's no way to follow a pine-laden scent through a pine forest!"

Stormfang's eyes glowed, "True, but this particular tree will give us another hint to follow." Ghost cocked her head to one side and looked down, unsure of what he meant. Another hint? "In fact," he continued, "You're covered in it."

Ghost immediately looked down at her sap coated fur. The amber colored liquid gleamed dully in the pale light of the night. Her fur bristled as understanding struck her and she met Stormfang's sharp gaze eagerly. "Of course! The pine sap!"

Stormfang nodded, "It won't be easy, but somewhere on this tree it's likely we can find some sort of clue stuck to the sap. A bit of fur is all we need, and it's somewhere in this tree." As he finished speaking, he leaped up beside her, balancing precariously with his lashing tail as he found his footing along the uneven and thin branch.

"Let's split up and look for that fur," he mewed, shaking his head as pine needles tickled his ears.

Ghost nodded and set to work straightaway, scrutinizing every shadowy branch and gleaming droplet of sap. On the backside of the tree they soon found what they needed. It was hardly enough to be called a tuft of fur; it was more like a few loose hairs stuck in a patch of pine sap. The color was pale gray and the scent was faint. But it was enough.

"This is excellent," Ghost felt energy pulsing through her in excitement, "I'll be able track _this._"

Touching her nose to the sticky hairs, she drank in the scent—cat, male, not old but not young either. Not ShadowClan. That was all she could get from it, but it was more than enough to find the trail that lay hidden beneath the forest scents.

Leaping to the snowy forest floor, white powder drifted around her as she closed her eyes and drank in the flavor of the night. Finding a scent trail is like trying to find a specific stone in a riverbed. You can see it's there, but there are so many pebbles that they all blend into a single mass. And with water washing over them at a rapid pace, the colors and distinctions become washed out so all that's left is the color gray.

It was even harder when you didn't know what the stone looked like, you were simply numbly passing your paws over them in the hopes that somehow you would know when you found the right one. But that changed when you knew what the stone looked like. It was still a difficult task, but it was far more doable.

And for Ghost, it wasn't even a challenge. With a victorious tilt of her head she looked back at Stormfang who was picking at a patch of sap on his pelt, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. He paused when he saw her looking at him and met her gaze, a confident light in his clear yellow eyes. Ghost purred and her tail curled, "I found it."

**…**

The trail took them through the trees and deeper into the woods, heading for the ThunderClan border. It turned away from the lake when they came to the stream that ran along most of the border and they followed it upstream, not once saying a word as the night silently slipped away behind them.

Dawn wasn't far off and fog rolled in and filled the forest with a gray haze as they paused by the rouge border. "They must be long gone," Stormfang growled, glaring into the mist.

Ghost shifted her weight from paw to paw, she wasn't the slightest bit ready to turn back now. And the scent trail was so faint that it was sure to be gone by the end of the day. If they wanted to find the killer, the time was now. But Stormfang didn't seem interested.

"At least, this trail should prove Tinyfang's innocence. It's clearly not his scent or the scent of any Clan cat. Wolfclaw was killed by a rogue, and the Clan will conclude it's the same one that killed the ThunderClan warrior."

Ghost gave Stormfang a look from the corner of her eye, his face was carefully masked to hide what he was thinking, only a slight tinge of seriousness touched his features. "But we both know they weren't the same cat," she growled.

He turned his full gaze on her, eyes wide as he stared down at her as if she were far beneath him. "That doesn't matter. Wolfclaw is dead and Tinyfang will be exonerated. This was a slight detour to the plans, but the problem is solved now. There's no need to go looking for more trouble."

Ghost took a deep breath to argue her case when she felt a shiver go down her spine as if ice were being pressed to her skin. She broke eye contact with Stormfang and whirled around, lips pulled back in a threatening snarl and claws unsheathed.

She glared into the gloom and arched her back, waving Stormfang back with her tail. "There's someone else here," she breathed, ears flat against her skull. Her eyes stretched wide as she looked for movement from the fog.

Stormfang—for his credit—didn't argue with her for once, but he didn't raise his hackles, only looked around warily and sniffed the air. "I don't sense anything," he spoke quietly, eyes still peering around.

Ghost didn't respond. This was exactly the sort of conditions she used for assassinations, even if this wasn't the city, she knew someone was using the fog to hide themselves. It was a gut feeling, one created by having used these conditions dozens of times herself.

_There._

She could see it, a tiny shifting of the fog, so slight it could have been caused by the flapping wings of a bird. Except, it was dead silent in the forest and the silence echoed in her ears as she locked her eyes on the spot where she knew the cat was hiding.

"Is it the killer?" Stormfang asked, looking in the direction she was focused on.

"I can't tell," her words were spoken with her breath and she tensed. Who was it and what did they want? If it was a fight… she flexed her claws, that suited her fine.

"As expected of a Ghost, there's no hiding from your ethereal senses." A voice broke through the silence and it was followed by the sound of firm pawsteps slowly approaching from the direction Ghost had been watching.

She stiffened like a leaf in frost at the sound of the voice. She knew that voice. What was _he_ doing here? She lowered her hackles but kept her claws unsheathed and senses alert. "I didn't expect to see an old fluff-pelt like you all the way out in some dirty forest, what are you doing here, Felix?"

Out of the fog stepped a slim orange tabby with a white chest and muzzle and sly amber eyes. He stopped a few fox-lengths away, regarding them with an air of amusement—like there was a joke here only he knew.

"Is he the killer?" Stormfang growled, dropping to a position to pounce.

Ghost snorted, "He couldn't kill a kittypet, let alone Wolfclaw. No, his scent is different anyways."

"No warm greeting, Ghost? How sad, I thought we were friends, I travelled so far just to see you again," Felix pouted, "And were you ridiculing my fighting prowess? I may not be a match for you, but I'm one of the best in the city, but you know that," he sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head dramatically.

"The city?" Stormfang mewed sharply then he regarded the tom more closely, "You do look a little familiar…" he muttered.

"How cruel!' Felix's tail shot straight up, "You don't remember me? I'm Rowan's second-in-command! I'm the one who introduced the two of you," now the tom was looking disturbed, as if he couldn't believe he was so easily forgotten, but he only shook his head. "Well, we can save that for another time. I'm sure you," he pointed his tail at Ghost, "Are wondering why I'm here?"

Ghost scowled. Of all of Rowan's cats, she hated Felix the most. Lazy, unmotivated, a compulsive liar, troublemaker, and all around a miscreant of devious nature at best. He was also dangerous in a way that she never could be and that's why she loathed him. Just being near him was enough to put her on edge even though he'd never caused her any harm before.

"I'm sure you'll tell us even if we don't ask, so you might as well not stall any longer," she growled, looking him straight in the eye.

Felix purred, "Sometimes I get the feeling that you really do hate me, Ghost. But I'm probably just imagining it," he sat down in the cold snow and opened his amber eyes. He didn't speak for a few moments, looking absently to his right as if he were thinking about something. Then he spoke and his tone was more serious than she'd ever heard him use before.

"Ghost, you need to return to the city immediately." His amber eyes darkened, and his words had lost the playful vivacity. "Rowan wants you to abandon the mission and return to the city."

Ghost recoiled in shock, "Why?" she spoke the only thing that was going through her mind.

Felix sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head wearily, "Not long after you left, a small group of cats showed up. They are extremely strong, and they started eliminating gang after gang. They made no demands except one; join them or die. If we don't stop them soon, they'll take over the whole city. Your shelter is in danger too."

Ghost felt like she'd been struck in the back of the head. Her legs trembled, the shelter? The weary queens, the helpless kits… Robin's soft face appeared that in her mind was soon accompanied by another image of the soft brown and white fur being torn and bloodied as she bravely defended a group of kits.

"You're lying!" her voice was like a clap of thunder, rage swamped her like a wall of heat. "How could one group take over the city? Gangs have been fighting for dominance since before I was born, and you want me to believe the moment I leave a new group comes and does what others have been trying to do for countless seasons? And why would they attack the shelter? Those cats would be no use in an army, that's why they're there! They're too young and weak to protect themselves!"

Felix didn't even blink at her tirade but waited somberly for her to finish. "The kits will grow up soon enough and the queens will be forced to get strong or die. These cats don't care about others, they want to rule over the city, and that's exactly what they'll do if we don't stop them. That's why you need to return right away," the tom pressed, stepping closer.

Ghost hesitated. Felix was lying, he was a liar after all, but why would he lie about this? She struggled to calm herself, slowing her breath and waving her tail rhythmically. Something was very wrong here. She observed Felix in silence, he was unreadable and unpredictable, that's why his words could be believed as easily as they could be disbelieved.

"There's something off about your story," Stormfang spoke up, stepping to her side. "If the city cats are engaged in a fight, why is there not a scratch on your pelt? And if you're the second in command, why would you be sent to send a message that could be easily done by a lower ranked member of your group. And… why were you waiting for us here, along the murderer's scent trail?" the ShadowClan deputy's gaze was narrowed to thin slits, a threatening countenance falling over him.

Felix observed the deputy with a slight smirk pulling at his muzzle. "All excellent questions, but I'm not here to answer them. My job was to deliver the message and I've done that. Whether you believe me or not isn't my responsibility. But if it makes any difference, know that everything I told you is true. The city is on the brink of destruction and if you think you can sleep soundly knowing that what you've spent your life working for is being torn to shreds… by all means, continue helping the cats here with their coup d'état." Felix turned away and began walking back into the fog.

Ghost wanted to say something, but her words stuck in her throat. Felix didn't pause for a moment as he disappeared into the gloom and she stared after him, feeling like the ground was falling away from beneath her paws.

"Fog?" Stormfang addressed her but she didn't look at him. Her mind was racing. What was going on? What did Felix's news mean? Was he lying? What should she do? "Fog!" Stormfang cuffed her over the ears and she stumbled, her gaze flashing wildly around as if she'd lost all sense of balance.

"Get a hold of yourself!" the gray tom stood in front of her, and she felt her eyes lock onto his piercing gaze. "Listen here, even if he's telling the truth, returning by yourself won't help anything. You may be skilled, but you're just one cat. If this new group is so strong, you alone won't be enough to stop them."

"But… even so, I can't leave them to die without doing something!" her desperation resounded through the still air.

Stormfang paused and took a deep breath, "Your best option is to finish the mission here. We had a deal, remember? If you help me take over ShadowClan, I'll take some of my best warriors to help save the city. That will make a difference, more than you could do on your own."

Ghost could barely manage a nod; her thoughts swam before her eyes. But an image had taken a strong hold of her mind, a vision of an abandoned twoleg nest surrounded by tall rock walls. Inside the dilapidated shelter were countless bloodstains. Fur stuck to the russet colored splotches and the dark, dried stains glittered grisly. The shelter was abandoned, there were no bodies, only the destroyed nests of the queens and the blood remained on the main floor.

But in the attic, there lay one single creature, covered in scars, and soaked in blood. White and brown fur and large, pleading blue eyes as endless as the sky. _Robin_. Her friend, her compatriot, and closest companion for most of her life. While the thoughts made up in her mind may not have been true, the desperation she felt to see for herself was very real.

She turned to Stormfang, her paws trembling, and she dug her claws in the ground, trying not to think about how quickly she could return to the city. _If I hurry, I can make it in a day and a night._ "Stormfang," her voice rasped harshly in her throat which had gone dry, "This scent trail is evidence that there was another cat at Wolfclaw's murder. It may not fully prove him innocent, but it should shed more doubt on Tinyfang's guilt."

The gray tom nodded slowly, "That's true… but the murderer is gone by now, so we can't fully exonerate him," he growled.

Ghost lashed her tail, "That's fine. In fact, it's perfect," she growled, looking the tom straight in the eye. "I've spent enough time on this job, I'm going to finish it."

Stormfang widened his eyes, but he didn't interrupt her as she continued. "You are deputy, and now the Clan will be half convinced there is a wild murderer on the loose in their territory—or at least very near it. I'll kill Nettlestar now and then you can become leader while pinning his death on Wolfclaw's murderer. Then we find him and execute him for their deaths."

The gray tom shook his head slowly, "That's a risky plan. If any cat should find out, we'll be blamed for Wolfclaw's death and Nettlestar's attempted assassination. We'll be killed," he growled, yellow eyes boring into hers.

"That was always going to be the situation. There's just another player in the game that we weren't expecting, and we can probably use them to our advantage. But Stormfang, I'm returning to the city in five days whether we succeed or not, so you should come to your decision quickly."

His gaze darkened as he looked at her, but she held it firmly this time. Even if Felix was lying, even if she knew it with every hair on her pelt, she still had to make sure. If there was the slightest chance, she had to see for herself. Make sure Robin and the Shelter was safe, that Rowan was still there, and know that there was still hope for a better future in the city.

"Ghost," she pricked her ears when he used her assassination name. "I'll discuss it with Blackpoppy and let you know soon enough. But for now, let's return to the Clan and let them know what we've found regarding the killer." He spoke calmly, a sharp contrast to her own rioting insides, and he turned away from her quickly before she could decipher the expression on his face.

_No matter what you decide, it doesn't matter. I'm going home and I couldn't care if you become leader or not. But Robin… everyone, I wish I knew what was happening right now. _

**…**

"I told her just as you instructed, now return them to me as promised."

Heavy heartbeat, laboring breath, shaky paws. Had he ever been so nervous? Felix doubted it as he stood alone in a small clearing, encircled by snow-laden briar branches. The dark, twisting wood matched the warped gazes of the cats that took shelter beneath them.

Malignant eyes and silent growls pressed in from all sides. Felix stood firm, finding courage through outrage the stand amidst the depraved creatures that surrounded him. His amber eyes glimmered as he struggled to keep his orange fur flat. He was an expert deceiver; it had always been a gift of his to lie naturally and to keep a firm hold on his emotions and impulses. But this time was different, he felt every ounce of anger that had ever bubbled up in his entire life come to the surface now and he wouldn't be surprised to see steam rising from his pelt.

The cause of his vexation was the cat whom he'd addressed with his report, the cat that had ordered him to go speak with Ghost and deliver that message. It was a tom cat with pale gray fur and paler gray eyes that caused a sense of uneasiness without a clear discernible reason. Like the eyes of a dead animal that remained open and watchful though the spirit was gone.

The tom had been laying on his stomach with his legs outstretched before him as Felix spoke, but now he sat up, flicking a bit of snow from his paws. "Very well, you've done as I asked. And I always keep my promises." The gray tom flicked his tail as if in signal and immediately two cats appeared from the shadows, walking backwards so that Felix couldn't see what they were dragging behind them.

Felix's amber eyes widened, and his breath caught in his chest as he smelled two familiar scents along with a sense of foreboding that turned his stomach. "Two of your kits, returned to you as agreed," the gray tom mewed, his voice was soft as a feather but denoted no emotion.

"What have you done?!" Felix's calm demeanor evaporated into hot fury as the two cats turned around and flung what they were dragging across the clearing to his paws. The small lumps of fur landed at his paws with a dull thud and Felix's eyes were fastened to the small figures and he refused to believe what his senses were telling him.

He touched the two small bodies delicately, "Dusty… Clover…" he murmured their names as he gently rolled the small creature over. A shriek was ripped from his throat when he saw the deep red gashes in their throats and bloodstained fur. The scent of blood and death he had smelled now had an image to match.

His mind blanked as he launched himself as the gray tom, claws outstretched. The gray tom didn't blink, just looked up curiously as if someone had said something interesting that caught his attention.

A heavy forced slammed into Felix from the side before his claws even reached the tom's ear tips and his felt himself pinned with his muzzle pressed into the snow so that he could barely breathe. Despite that, he continued to yell and curse the tom.

"You piece of fox-dung! You absolute crowfood, you killed them!" He flailed around with every bit of strength his rage had drawn from his scrawny body which hadn't been well-fed in days. "Phantom, you were supposed to return my kits to me alive!"

"I never agreed to that, I said I'd return them. You never said they had to be alive." The gray tom, Phantom, tilted his head to one side, his voice confused. "I suppose them being alive would make more sense to you. That's why I left one alive." He flicked his tail and again another of his members appeared with a small white and gray she-kit in his grasp. She was scrawny and barely had the strength to open her eyes as she remained curled and motionless in the rogue's grasp.

"Mitzi!"

As the sound of her father's call, the tiny she-kit opened her wide blue eyes and a plaintive cry was torn from her trembling body. "Papa!" she sobbed, shaking in the grasp of her captor, "Dusty and Clover are dead!"

Felix pushed up with a surge of strength, throwing his attacker from his back and whirled to face Phantom. "Give her back to me now!" he demanded, preparing to attack again. He didn't care how many of them there were, he would fight them all for the sake of his daughter.

The cats beneath the briars got to their paws, growling, claws flashing, fangs showing. Phantom waved his tail for silence before curling it neatly over his paws. "The deal was to return two of your kits for that last mission. We'll return the last one after you complete one more job for us."

Felix's amber eyes flared, "You think I'll work with you after you killed two of my kits?!"

Phantom inclined his head, "You worked with us after we killed your mate, so why wouldn't you work now with the life of your last kit at stake?" The cat who was carrying Mitzi dropped her and pinned her beneath his claws, shooting Felix a threatening glare.

Mitzi screamed as the claws scratched at her tender skin and Felix's heart lurched. He cast a sorrowful look at his two deceased kits. He felt like he could simply fall dead on the spot, the grief gripped his heart so strongly, but he couldn't give in. Not so long as he could save one member of his family, he dug his claws into the ground, he couldn't give in to despair.

"What do you want?" he growled, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

Phantom closed his eyes and nodded approvingly, "Now that we know for sure that you want your kit returned alive, I promise that your daughter won't be harmed in any way and will be safely returned to you so long as you successfully carry out this mission."

The tom cat released the kit from his grip and Mitzi immediately raced over to her father, burying her tiny nose in his fur. The solace that one touch gave Felix was immeasurable, he felt like he'd been dying of thirst and that tiny cold nose and shaking paws were a clear forest spring to save him from drying up on the spot.

"We'll be keeping her safe with us until you complete your mission of course, this is too dangerous a job for someone so young and helpless," Phantom waved his tail and nodded at the kit and Mitzi's tormentor approached, dragging the kit away by the tail.

"Wait!" Felix desperately tried to hold his daughter close, but the two cats that had delivered his dead kits to him blocked his way, their eyes cold and dark. Mitzi's cried echoed in his ears and he felt delirious as he turned to Phantom in desperation. "What is it you want me to do?!"

"In order for you to see your daughter safe and sound again, you need to carry out this one mission. It should be easy for you since you're so skilled in the art of lying." The gray tom paused, and an amused look came over his features, but it wasn't good amusement, more like the amusement a dog got in playing with its food. Slowly tearing it apart bit by bit, the prey trapped in the merciless game where death was the only imaginable outcome. "Your mission is this—"

**...**

**Thanks for reading! I knew that in this chapter I wanted to add in someone else's POV, just to widen our view of the situation, but I couldn't figure out who to use. And then it hit me. I know we only just met him, but Felix had 'perfection' written right on him. (Or maybe 'purrfection' hahahaha)**

**I hope you all liked this chapter! It's a little shorter, but I also got it up a little faster (? I honestly can't remember) I'm going to try really hard to get another chapter up before school starts, but that may or may not happen. I really dunno. **

**But here's to hoping everyone still remembers this story exists and comes to check out the next chapter again! Hope to see you then, and if you feel like leaving a review... not to beg, but please do ^^**


	12. Chapter 12

**Guess who's back? Dumb question, I know :) You guys are awesome that you keep reading, thanks for all the support! Even with only one, single review, it helps me stay motivated to finish this story. Since it's been ongoing for a year _ And we're only at chapter 12 so... ONE MORE YEAR! (Hopefully not)**

**Chapter 12**

Pale gray light irradiated the pine forest, casting long, twisted shadows beneath the firs that striped black patterns over the light dusting of snow. Despite the early hour, the ShadowClan camp was awake and buzzing with tension as cats darted from one circle of gossip to another.

Alone, Ghost sat near the apprentices' den, scarfing down a scrawny mouse. Finishing her pitiful meal, she gingerly ran a paw over her whiskers to lick off the remnants from her soft paw pads. The tang of pine sap mingled with the musky meat and she wrinkled her nose. She'd given herself as thorough a grooming as she could, but she'd be finding spots of sap for the next half moon.

After returning to camp from their hunt for the murderer, Stormfang had taken several cats including Nettlestar to go inspect the rogue scent trail they'd found at the site of Wolfclaw's murder. Her eyes strayed to the nursery where the hollow-eyed Deerheart stood at the entrance. Her deep brown eyes stared at the entrance of the camp; her ears pricked as if waiting for someone so intently that she couldn't hear the helpless mewls calling her from deeper within the nursery.

Ghost averted her gaze, the one Deerheart was truly waiting for would never come. She stiffened as she noticed Silverfern approaching her, a scowl on her face. The tabby she-cat gave her a glare and brushed right past her, sticking her head into the apprentices' den. But she pulled it out quickly as if she'd been stung and whipped around to face her.

"Where's Owlpaw?" she snapped, green eyes dancing with annoyance as the fur along her shoulders bristled.

Ghost met her gaze calmly, "I don't know." It was a lie; she'd seen all three of the apprentices' head out to the mossy clearing for a little bit of extra battle training just before dawn. They were probably still there. But if Silverfern was going to be annoyed with her, she may as well give her a reason.

"Useless," the silver she-cat turned around, muttering, and stalked away heading for the entrance of the camp before hesitating and turning to join her mate, Aspenheart, at the fresh-kill pile. Ghost yawned; she wasn't going to miss the silver warrior's attitude when she left.

The thought of leaving filled her with instant anxiety and she curled her claws into the ground instinctively. What was happening in the city? Was the Shelter safe? Was Robin okay? What about Rowan and his cats? She felt claws gripping her belly so tightly that the indents were nearly tangible.

She shivered not from the cold, but from her own fear of losing what was most precious to her again. As she closed her eyes, trying to calm down, shadowy images of two pale gray cats—one large, one small—both lying motionless on the ground kept floating to her mind.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts from her mind, stopping only when she felt dizzy and swayed back and forth on her paws. She opened her eyes, trying not to fall over. Luckily, her thoughts were interrupted as the triumphant deputy and the less pleased leader entered the camp.

A hush fell over the camp as Nettlestar stalked across the clearing and leaped onto the lower branch of the pine tree that grew by the leader's den – the high-branch the Clan called it—and summoned the Clan to the clearing for a meeting.

From all corners of the camp, cats came slinking out. The elders braved the cold, coming out of their warm den with their pelts fluffed up. Deerheart stepped further away from the nursery, her eyes as blank as before, and she was quickly joined by her two older kits, Blackpoppy and Rippleheart. The apprentices raced through into the clearing, fur ruffled and heavy breaths puffing clouds of fog that curled around their faces.

Even Tinyfang, leaning against Finchclaw, his broken leg bound to a sort of reed with leaf poultice slathered over it, limped from the place of his captivity. He seemed to have aged a hundred moons in the past two days, his brown eyes were misty, and his fur was scraggly and unkept. His eyes shone with pain, but there was no accusation in his eyes as he stared up at the leader who had put him in such a condition.

Stormfang took a spot near the base of the pine tree that Nettlestar stood on and he was soon joined by the medicine-cat Oakleaf while his apprentice sat a few tail-lengths away. All eyes were fixed expectantly on the leader and no cat dared breathe a word as Nettlestar raked his green eyes over the throng of cats.

"This morning, Stormfang and I took several senior warriors to go investigate a scent trail leading away from the place of Wolfclaw's murder. The scent trail was faint and appeared to belong to an unknown rogue and led out of Clan territory near the border between ThunderClan and our own."

Nettlestar's words were sharp but levelled with fairness. Ghost narrowed her eyes; the news was met with mixed apprehension by the Clan. But it was clear the opinion was trending in the direction that the murderer was a rogue rather than Tinyfang.

She looked at the small, pale gray warrior as he leaned against Finchclaw. His brown eyes were wide as he stared up at Nettlestar, but his expression was unreadable. Relief? Worry? Anger? She couldn't see anything in his countenance. He looked as if he no longer had any interest in his fate or who the real murderer was, but she thought there was a flicker of defiance in the way he looked down at his broken leg.

After a series of murmurings has swept through the crowd, a cat finally spoke out among them. It was Blackpoppy, her slender dark figure a stark contrast to the pale snowy scenery of the camp. "Then the real murderer has gotten away?" her voice was stiff with outrage and from her expression, Ghost couldn't tell if she were acting or not.

Her brother, Rippleheart, traced his tail down his sister's spine in a soothing motion, but he also looked sharply up at their leader. "So, we've detained Tinyfang while the true murderer has escaped?" he didn't sound pleased, but as Nettlestar met his gaze, he dropped his challenging stare.

The Clan fell silent, awaiting nervously Nettlestar's response. Stormfang was also looking up at the dark tabby tom. He looked serenely up at his leader, his expression a little too mirthful for the seriousness of the questions being asked.

But Nettlestar's green eyes never wavered and he dipped his head. "It appears that way. However, nothing is settled yet. After consulting with my senior warriors, we are of the same opinion that it is likely this is the same rogue which killed the ThunderClan warrior about half a moon ago. If he has killed twice, it is likely he will remain near the Clans to kill again, and that will give us a chance to capture the rat," his growl was met with stern nods and eyes shining with noble fire.

And so easily the Clan was back on his side, ready to fight and die to find this rogue and bring justice to their fallen Clanmate. But Tinyfang hadn't been mentioned in his little speech, and Ghost was wondering how to bring it up when Finchclaw, who was guarding Tinyfang, called out.

"And does this mean Tinyfang is innocent?"

All eyes turned on the pale gray warrior, and for his credit, he didn't shrink back like he had on the other night. Now he stared above their heads at Nettlestar, brown eyes void of vice and he didn't open his mouth to plead his innocence.

"While the evidence now suggests it was the work of a rogue," Nettlestar began slowly, "that does not fully explain why Tinyfang's fur was found in Wolfclaw's claws. It is possible it was planted to cast suspicion, but it is also possible that Tinyfang was working together with the rogue."

Ghost's tail swished in exasperation, by that logic, any cat in the Clan could have been working with the rogue. And if Stormfang's suspicions were correct, it was Nettlestar who was the culprit. But unlike the leader who was believed so easily, she couldn't hurl out accusations without any evidence to back them up.

"For now, Tinyfang will be allowed to stay in the medicine-cat den and be treated like a full warrior by the Clan. But he is forbidden from leaving camp without my express permission, and any infringement on that will be deemed a betrayal." The leader spoke without looking at the warrior with the broken leg.

"For how long." Ghost flinched at the harshness of the tone. Those were the first words Ghost had heard Tinyfang speak since the night he was accused, and they were ripped out of his throat like claws grating on stone.

Nettlestar regarded the warrior coolly, "Until your leg is healed. We will reevaluate the situation at this time and come to a more final solution."

The Clan murmured their approval as Nettlestar dismissed the meeting and leaped down, signaling Stormfang to follow him to his den and disappearing behind the snow-covered entrance. Ghost sat there; reveling in the relief the outcome of the meeting had brought her.

With Tinyfang out of immediate danger, she could now focus on the most pressing task before her. And that was killing Nettlestar

…

"I brought you some food," Ghost dropped the soft mouse in front of Tinyfang. The pale gray warrior lay curled tightly in a newly constructed nest of moss and gorse. He peered out from his haven of green and brown at the food but didn't move to eat. Ghost's eyes drifted to the tightly bound broken leg that stuck out of the nest at an awkward angle. She could almost smell the foul mood he was in.

As Nettlestar had promised, Tinyfang had been moved into the medicine-cat den rather than being kept in the isolated and exposed prisoners' corner. It was warmer here and between Bluepaw and Oakleaf, he would have more company and constant care for his recovery.

But when the medicine-cats had come out for their evening meal, no one else came to share their meal with the injured warrior. It wasn't until dark that Ghost had wondered and peeked in to see he hadn't eaten or moved since he'd been brought there that morning.

"You should eat, it'll help you heal faster," she mewed, pushing the food closer to his nose with a paw.

"I'm not hungry," his growl was terse with pain and resentment, Ghost frowned.

No one needed to tell her that she wasn't the most optimistic or cheerful creature in the forest, but her acting for the Clan had made it easier for her to fake it. "You'll be back to normal long before the snow melts, and until then all you have to do is rest and recover. The Clan knows you're not the killer now, and after a bit of time, they'll find the courage to face you again. They'll probably just ashamed of themselves for not realizing it sooner."

A harsh laugh came from Tinyfang as he lifted his head, brown eyes sharp as flint. "Is that what you think? Maybe you weren't listening, but I'm still under suspicion. And besides that, until Nettlestar has given me full clemency, they won't dare approaching me. Because if it does turn out I'm a traitor, then they'll be considered traitors too and exiled or killed along with me. They're too worried about their own pelts to care about mine."

He spoke quietly, but with a forceful knowingness, as if his words were self-fulfilling. The antipathy smoldering in his eyes burned out and the light faded as he lowered his head again. "Not that I can blame them, I'm no different."

Ghost watched him curiously, sitting down as he laid his head on his unbroken leg, his face turned away so that she could only see the pale profile of the side of his head against the dark rows of herbs behind him.

"Have other cats been killed and exiled on Nettlestar's commands?" she asked knowing it was true. She'd heard rumors and occasionally the mentors would frighten the apprentices into working harder by alluding to it. Several cats who had broken the rules and had thus betrayed the Clan had been exiled or killed, so she'd heard.

Tinyfang just let out a sigh, "Yes, mostly they are exiled. But that is a greater shame to a warrior than death," he growled. "To be forced out of their home and wander for the rest of their lives, only to die under foreign skies, stripped of their warrior status, so that they don't even know if they can return to StarClan and their ancestors." His voice grew more bitter by the word and for the first time Ghost felt she might understand why he, Blackpoppy, and Stormfang were fighting to get rid of Nettlestar.

In the gangs, a plot to kill the leader and take over was always caused by greed and ambition for power and status. She had felt a bit of that sentiment from Stormfang, but not from Blackpoppy and Tinyfang. In fact, despite their clear determination, they had always seemed distressed by their mission and the blood they must spill.

But something stronger than their anxiety had pushed them forward. Perhaps this was it, at least for Tinyfang. Maybe he was tired of seeing his Clanmates being banished or killed because of Nettlestar's draconian rule. _Maybe Tinyfang lost someone close to him before…_

"Stormfang and Blackpoppy were discussing _that_ matter tonight, weren't they?" he suddenly spoke up, a new sense of interest in his tone.

Ghost was startled out of her thoughts, but quickly recovered herself, giving a quick lick to her shoulder and nodded. "They should be reaching their answer soon. In fact, I should go meet them if you'll excuse me…" She trailed off, standing up and backing out of the den.

"Don't waste that food," she called out over her shoulder. Tinyfang waved his tail in an answer and she stepped out into the moon washed clearing. A hollow breeze buffeted her fur, smelling of snow and ice and she peered up through the thick pine trees, wondering if they could expect more snow soon. If it snowed much more, she'd be slowed down when travelling back to the city.

Impatience pricked at her paws as she picked her way along the shadows of the camp towards the exit. Twilight was fading to night, but the sentry hadn't taken up their position yet at the entrance to camp and Ghost slinked out unnoticed and made a beeline to where Stormfang had said he and Blackpoppy would be.

Past the training clearing where two warriors practiced battle moves with fake growls and smooth strikes, she turned off the trail and headed for a holly bush. Turning right, she stepped around a small fern bush where the two cats sat huddled, their faces close together in murmuring.

"I thought we would freeze our paws off waiting for you," Stormfang spoke irritably, his yellow eyes cross as he stared down at her.

Blackpoppy stroked his shoulder with her tail in a soothing motion and flashed Ghost a more welcoming look. Ghost looked at the slender black she-cat in surprise. She hadn't seen much of her since Wolfclaw's death, being busy with the investigation and then her own worries and concerns about returning to the city.

But seeing the she-cat up close, in the dimming gray light between dusk and night, she could see how in only a few short days the young warrior had changed in appearance—it reminded her of Tinyfang's sudden chance. Blackpoppy's winter pelt seemed short and dull, her shoulders and ribs stuck out more harshly than either Stormfang's or Ghost's did, and her eyes seemed glazed over with a misty luster. All this, and Ghost didn't fail to notice the swelling in her belly.

"We've been talking the matter over, and we've both agreed that it's not the right time." Stormfang's voice was commanding despite being barely above a whisper.

Ghost's concern for Blackpoppy was swallowed by her anger as she turned her face to the deputy. "And why not?" her voice echoed snappishly, and she could feel her irritation growing like an itch that got worse the more it was scratched at.

"It's too soon, we should wait until tensions cool off more. Also, we need to wait until Tinyfang is healed. He's a liability as he is right now, he can't fight or even run. While he can't help us, he also can't protect himself. By the time he's healed it'll be nearly new-leaf, we'll strike then."

Ghost's tail lashed as Stormfang spoke. He may as well have been speaking to a tree for how much mind she was giving him. She had meant it when she said she was leaving in five days, but she also intended to finish this job with or without his approval.

The gray tom had gotten to know her better in the time they had worked together, and now as they locked gazes, it was as if he could tell what she was thinking, and it enraged him. "Now listen here," his growl was coarse, "We've been planning this for seasons, and you will not ruin it because of your petty concerns and unfounded worries!"

Far from calming her, his words inflamed her ire as much as the belittling look and harsh tone of voice. "So, the destruction of my home and friends is a petty concern?!" she would have lashed out with her claws if Blackpoppy hadn't moved between them, pushing her back with the gentle pressure of her head and blocking her view of Stormfang.

"This is a difficult situation for all of us, but we can't be fighting amongst ourselves now after we've come so far. We're in this together, for better or worse," her voice was pained, and Ghost's anger faltered as she took a few compromising steps backwards, letting Blackpoppy usher her away.

Blackpoppy looked at Stormfang over her shoulder, "You need to organize the night hunting and training duties, I'll handle this." The gray tom gave a slow nod, his yellow eyes sharp with disapproval as he headed off to camp, his figure quickly swallowed by shadows and his pawsteps and scent faded soon after.

Ghost kept glaring after him, not able to forget the dismissive tone he'd used. He clearly couldn't care less if all she cared for was destroyed, the only thing that mattered to him was his victory over Nettlestar.

Scowling in disgust, Ghost turned abruptly away from Blackpoppy, thinking she'd vent her anger by hunting. But Blackpoppy didn't let her go but joined her and led her subtly in the direction of the lake. Walking with silence at her side, close enough that Ghost could feel her warmth but not so close that their fur touched.

Before long, the forest lightened as the trees thinned and the moonlight broke through. The milky white beams danced across the snow bleached forest floor as the wind sent the trees rocking. And the moonbeams only became more numerous as they approached the lake, so that they were cradled by the ethereal light when they reached the end of the trees.

The lakeshore was covered in windswept snow that lay in drifts against the trees and formed patterns in the snow like white waves frozen in time. The lake itself stretched far into the distant shadows, the moon and starlight setting its surface glittering like a spiderweb full of rain droplets.

Blackpoppy signaled with a flick of her tail to join her in the shadow of a snowdrift, so that they were sheltered from the wind and concealed from any prying eyes. Ghost followed, enjoying the feeling of the cold, unbroken wind playing with her fur and cooling her heated face. It reminded her of sitting atop a twoleg nest, feeling the wind in her fur, and looking far into the distance.

The reminder of home sent a bitter taste to her mouth and she flexed her claws, the momentary pleasure lost in her overwhelming concerns. She sat down next to Blackpoppy stiffly, her tail twitching as she waited for the black, she-cat to begin.

"Stormfang told me you're anxious to return to the city," she began, looking at her closely with her clear blue eyes.

Ghost didn't meet her gaze, but instead kept her eyes fixed on the distant shadows across the lake, knowing that beyond that thick swath of shadows, the city lay in wait for her return. "That's right."

"An acquaintance of yours told you your home was in danger, and so now you want to return to protect it," Blackpoppy spoke softly and slowly, as if letting the words hang in the air to increase their weight.

"He may have been lying," Ghost spoke her hope without hardly realizing it, and her shoulders tensed. "But he may not have, I can't rest easy until I know for sure." Her mouth felt dry and she shuddered as she again pictured the destruction of her home.

Blackpoppy was silent for a few moments, "I understand," she mewed simply, closing her eyes, and curling her black tail over her paws, "I don't blame you for feeling that way. I feel the same." Now it was Ghost who didn't speak for a moment, taking the courage the speak her thoughts.

"Why do want to overthrow Nettlestar? He's not a great leader, but no cat is starving, and no one is threatening your territory. Wouldn't it be better to simply wait for him to live out his life as leader?" It was a question Ghost had been bothered by for a while. Nettlestar's rules were a little harsh, but compared to city life, this was paradise. The old and the young were cared for first, queens were taken care of and every cat was taught to hunt and fight and to guard their territory while other Clans respected the borders through mutual respect for a code of rules. Nothing like the city where weak cats had no hope but to die or become kittypets.

And why go so far as to kill? It was true they hadn't been the ones to kill Wolfclaw, but that was only by happenstance. And yet, Blackpoppy had readied herself to be responsible for the death of her own father, whom she loved, for the sake of Nettlestar's downfall. It made no sense to Ghost.

Blackpoppy gave her a long, sad look. "It has been rather peaceful since you arrived," she murmured, looking up at the moon. "But that was not the case for most of Nettlestar's rule. He rules with the harshness of frost and a grip of fear," the she-cat murmured, eyes staring blankly across the frozen lake as if she were seeing something far, far away.

"Stormfang's father was the previous leader," Blackpoppy broke the silence abruptly, "I was still a kit when he died, but I know from the elders that he was a kind and gentle leader. Unfortunately, such leaders are only good in times of peace. But when there was conflict with the other Clans, he allowed ShadowClan to be shafted, and so there was discontent with his leadership."

Ghost pondered over that information. Stormfang wasn't much older than Blackpoppy, so then his father… "I'm guessing the previous leader didn't die of old age," she mewed, glancing at the black she-cat.

Blackpoppy didn't meet her gaze, but continued to stare into the distance, "No, he wasn't that old, he was younger than my own father—" the breath caught in Blackpoppy's voice, but she continued, "He was murdered, we supposed rogues at first, but Nettlestar—who had newly been made deputy after the previous deputy retired—said it was the other Clans and used it as an excuse to attack them and take back all the land they'd gotten in his predecessor's peace agreements. Many of our Clan-mates died in those battles," a shadow veiled her face, and her voice was emotionless as she continued crisply.

"Stormfang believed Nettlestar had killed his father to become leader. Many would have agreed, but they didn't care at first since they were tired of being humiliated by the other Clans. And in the midst of fighting, no one else wanted to take leadership. And slowly, under the guise of protecting us by making us stronger, he made new additions to the Warrior Code in our Clan…"

"I've heard of some of that," Ghost interrupted, "The apprentices told me a bit. Rules about how the one who catches the least on the hunting patrol doesn't eat until the next day. Or how the worst performer in a battle training session must spend the night along training."

"And did they tell you that every second moon warriors are given an assessment—a very difficult assessment— and if they fail, they are stripped of their warrior name and become apprentices until they pass the next assessment? My brother was once stripped of his warrior name for two moons, just because he slipped once in the battle portion of the assessment." Her voice was bitter, and she turned her face away from Ghost, "He said it was humiliating. It destroyed his pride, and you still won't find him socializing with our Clanmates as much."

Ghost didn't fully understand what impact it would have on a warrior to be demoted to an apprentice, but she did understand that an apprentice was young, inexperienced, and subservient to warriors and that a warrior name and status was highly esteemed.

"He spent every night training… and he was terrified. When you fail an assessment, the next one is even more difficult and if you fail three assessments in a row you will be exiled. That's what happened to Tinyfang's mate."

Ghost pricked her ears, "He had a mate?"

Blackpoppy nodded, the snow crunching lightly as she shifted her weight, laying down on her belly and tucking her paws under her. "I was an apprentice when it happened. She'd been in the nursery with kits, but both died of illness that leaf bare. She was always a bit fragile, and that loss devastated her. I can still remember her going out in the snowy forest at night and falling asleep at their graves…" her voice choked, and she looked down at her own belly, a glimmer of fear in her eyes.

"Tinyfang did his best to help her return to warrior duties, but she got thinner and weaker and failed three assessments in a row. She was exiled and left secretly in the night without telling anyone. Of course, Tinyfang was furious, he raged and cursed and demanded to know what the point of a Clan was if we chased out the weak and vulnerable…"

Ghost could feel her chest tightening, pity for the small gray tom rose in her, perhaps that was why he had seemed so resigned and bitter towards his Clan-mates. It wasn't the first time they'd let him down.

"Tinyfang even went out to look for his mate, once the snow melted, finally convincing Nettlestar to give his mate another chance."

"I suppose he didn't find her then…" Ghost murmured sorrowfully.

"We don't know. He returned a quarter moon later and refused to say a word. Maybe he couldn't even find her, or maybe he did, and she refused to come back." Blackpoppy shook her head, "Several others have been exiled or ran away after failing an assessment. We're the smallest sized Clan, but nearly all of us are stronger than other Clan warriors, and that's why the other Clans fear and respect us."

"It's also easier to keep you all fed with less of you, and disease is easier to prevent," Ghost commented. She had kept a limit on the number of cats in her shelter for similar reasons, although they rarely got to full capacity anyways. As before, thinking about her city life turned her stomach into knots.

"So that's why Tinyfang wants to get rid of Nettlestar, to end these rules and perhaps a little revenge for his mate. Stormfang wants revenge for his father, and—" Ghost paused as Blackpoppy shook her head fiercely.

"No, that's not why Stormfang wants to end Nettlestar's rule," the slender she-cat growled, eyes glittering brightly. "It's true he resented Nettlestar and suspected him of murdering the previous leader, but that's not why. Like most of us, he admired Nettlestar's strength, what Clan doesn't want to be feared and respected by their enemies? And that's what Nettlestar's rule gave us, even as some of our weaker Clan-mates were exiled or ran away, we remained steadfast in our loyalty to him for several seasons…"

A cloud of pain masked Blackpoppy's gentle countenance. "Stormfang and I, we are the same, we bear the same burden. It's a bond deeper than blood that connects us, a pain that binds us together in this path we walk of darkness and blood."

Ghost was silent, sensing the tension rising in Blackpoppy as her voice dropped to a whisper. "I had a sister, and Stormfang had a brother. They met the same fate because of Nettlestar's vile rules. Stormfang's brother, when he was a young warrior, once fled during a battle. He'd been fighting the ThunderClan deputy! He couldn't win, he didn't have enough experience, and the fighting was fierce, he may have been killed had he not run away. But Nettlestar saw to it that he met the same fate regardless. He was executed in cold blood by his own leader for his cowardice."

The wind blustered past them, filling the silence with the echoing roar of rushing wind. Ghost could feel her paws growing cold—but it was only due to the snow. Her breathing was normal, not a hair on her pelt twitched. However, Blackpoppy looked like she was witnessing the execution at this moment, her eyes were wide, her breath ragged, tail trembling, spine shivering.

Executions were rare, even in the city. Usually it was prisoners from rival gangs that were no longer useful. Only if a member was found guilty of treason were they executed. But still, death was death, did the way it was delivered really matter? Looking at the horror frozen on Blackpoppy's face, as if she could see the bloodstained snow before her face, it seemed to matter to her.

"Was your sister also executed?" Ghost's voice was quiet, gently redirecting the black she-cat's thoughts.

Slowly, Blackpoppy drew herself up, shaking her head. "No, but it would have. She also had to flee from a battle. It wasn't long after Stormfang's brother had been executed. No doubt she couldn't bear the thought of dying the way he did, but she also refused to run away from the Clan. So, she killed herself, throwing herself into this lake to drown. She was only nine moons old." The grief in Blackpoppy's voice was thick, but there wasn't the same horror as when she'd been speaking of Stormfang's brother.

"Stormfang and I were united in our grief and hatred," the black she-cat sighed, seeming to grow weary of the painful memories. "Tinyfang was the one who approached us with the idea of overthrowing Nettlestar, but Stormfang soon took over of the plan. Unfortunately, either through fear or pride or ambition, most of the cats that remained after the first six bloody moons of Nettlestar's rule are fiercely loyal to him. And now the apprentices and kits know no other way of living then this and so his power over the Clan cannot be removed through anything other than his death."

Ghost considered the story, eyes drifting from one shadow to the next as she lay crouched against the snowbank. This was why Stormfang and the others wanted Nettlestar overthrown. She'd had a feeling it had something to do with the rigidity of his rules, mingled with a thirst of power, but they had all lost someone dear to them and that was the reason behind their determination. It was a sentiment she could empathize with.

"That's the reason you were willing to ally yourself with a common rogue," Ghost could have chuckled, but she felt the mood was wrong.

Blackpoppy turned her blue stare on her, "You are anything but common. We had no choice but to seek help outside the Clan. Stormfang tried the other Clans, but it all fell through. So, when we were sent on a mission to make sure a rogue had left Clan territory, we knew it was our chance to recruit others for our cause. The rogue we tracked down refused, but he referred us to the city where we were soon acquainted with you and, well, you know what's happened since then."

"A rogue told you to go to the city?" Ghost asked sharply, frowning. Felix had said something about introducing Stormfang to Rowan, was it him?

"Yes, a pale gray tom, he was strong looking and covered in scars," Blackpoppy frowned at the memory, "I didn't like the look in his eye. But Stormfang decided to trust him, and we ended up meeting with that Rowan fellow and struck a deal. He promised your services in return for help quelling a few rival groups."

"Hmm," Ghost didn't respond verbally, instead she frowned. Did she know a pale gray tom with lots of scars? Perhaps he'd been passing through the city, but she was careful to know everyone living in the city, so he certainly couldn't have been a gang member or even have been in the city very long. And yet, he'd known they'd find help in the city and sent them there, why?

The moon and stars held no answer, only continued shining meaninglessly from their zenith. With a sigh, Ghost turned to Blackpoppy, "thank you for telling me. Now I understand the situation better. But I assume you didn't tell me for the sake of expanding my knowledge."

Blackpoppy purred, "You're a little cynical. But you're right, I wanted you to understand why it's so important to Stormfang to not mess up this plan. And I also wanted you to understand why, to me, we can no longer sit back and wait."

"You want me to end this?" Ghost couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. Blackpoppy had supported Stormfang's every decision until now, even to kill her father. "You don't think we should wait until Tinyfang is healed?"

Blackpoppy stood up, shaking the snow off her pelt briskly—her slightly rounded belly swaying as she did so. Ghost's eyes flicked back and forth from the belly to the intensity of Blackpoppy's stare. "I'm expecting kits, they'll be born in under two moons. By the time they're born, I want this nightmare to be over. I can't stay in this Clan, knowing how my kits will have to grow up. Either we defeat Nettlestar now or I'm leaving and never coming back."

Ghost could only bow to Blackpoppy's determination. She'd always respected and admired the strength queens acquired, a strength that she could never find in herself. The willingness to go to any length and commit any act to protect the lives that were theirs to safeguard.

"I'll do it, I'll help you create a place where you and your kits can live happily and in peace without fear of punishment of failure. And when it is over, and your kits can walk, I'll return for you to help me create the same place in the city." Blackpoppy purred at her words and stepped forward, touching her head gently with her frost-bitten nose.

"Best of luck, I know you can do it."

…

Two nights. That's how long it took Ghost to study Nettlestar. She watched him with the intensity of a voracious hawk to make up for the brief time she had to observe him, every cat he spoke to, every step he took, every look he made- nothing escaped her notice. She subjected him to an even heavier scrutiny than she'd given Wolfclaw, memorizing his patterns of eating, sleeping, breathing—everything.

She learned he was in the habit of personally leading one battle training session each night, after which he would take a quick walk around the outer perimeter of the camp. It was too close to the camp for her to lay an ambush on, but because of this walk, Nettlestar was always the last to leave the training session. That would be her chance.

Asides from his habits, she also studied his skill and movement. He wasn't as powerful a fighter as Wolfclaw, he simply lacked the muscle and size. But he was fast and tactful, darting in and out like a snake and he knew where to attack to maximize damage to his opponents. Additionally, his fighting style was rather unconventional when compared to the trained, polished, and rather uniform skills of his Clanmates. In short, he fought like a rogue.

On the evening of the third day, Ghost sat with the apprentices, sharing a squirrel with the three of them. The temperature had gotten steadily colder and a dry wind blew in from the north over the lake, sending the critters of the forest deep into their nests.

She glanced at the scanty fresh-kill pile; it was the first time since she'd arrived that food had been scarce. "I'm still hungry," Owlpaw complained, licking her muzzle, eyes gleaming greedily at Ghost's share that was left.

"Stop that, you had the largest portion," Fogpaw growled, cuffing his sister, his tone sharper than normal.

Firepaw shivered, pressing herself in between her two littermates, "I'm too cold to be hungry."

Ghost gazed at the three apprentices, realizing this may be the last time she saw them in a long while or at all. Feeling a twinge of regret that she couldn't properly say goodbye, she pushed her remaining food towards them with her nose.

"I'm already full, the three of you can share it." Fogpaw opened his mouth to protest, but his belly gave a complaining grumble, so he shut it and bowed his head in gratitude.

"Thank you!" Owlpaw reached out a paw to hook up some of the remaining meat and gulped it down in a few heartbeats. Fogpaw gave her a reproachful look and began slowly nibbling at his share.

Ghost looked expectantly at Firepaw who sat directly across from her, the auburn light of the setting sun setting her red fur blazing like a flame. But the apprentice only looked forlornly at the prey. Ghost wanted to say something, to thank them, to wish them luck, to promise she'd see them again and give them a kind farewell. But given her task for the night, that was impossible.

Ghost stood up, giving her usual brisk nod to the apprentices, and trotted away, hoping that she would see them again someday. Heading for the exit, she caught Blackpoppy's eye from where she sat outside the warrior's den, sharing tongues with Stormfang.

She gave a faint nod of assent and Ghost relaxed, this was her final task, the last mission in the Clans. By dawn, she would be on the far side of the lake heading home. _Robin, Rowan… everyone, I'll be home soon!_

The thoughts gave her energy and anxiety, as she recalled what Felix had told her for the umpteenth time that day. But at the very least, her thoughts were clear on her mission for the night, she knew exactly what to do and how to do it.

Dusting the snow off a small fern bush, she rubbed herself against it before rubbing herself next against a fragrant pine tree, making sure to clean the bits of pine sap off her pelt when she'd finished. She wouldn't make the same mistake as Wolfclaw's murderer.

After that, she climbed a tree with her claws sheathed and carefully and quietly made her way from tree to tree, as light as a feather and silent as a shadow. When she reached the training clearing, she chose a pine tree that was clustered around others so that no matter what time of day it was, thick shadows lay over it.

The mossy clearing was muddy from churned up snow, but the cold, dry air had hardened it so that frozen pawprints were imprinted in the mud. Laying on her belly, she wrapped her tail around her leg to prevent unnecessary movement and lay in wait, ears angled forward and eyes gleaming eagerly.

She didn't have to wait long. As the last drops of gold were disappearing from the sky, taken over by a deep indigo and faint streaks of pink and purple, a small group of cats appeared, headed by Nettlestar.

There were four cats asides from the leader, all of them were younger than Ghost. First came Blackpoppy's brother, Rippleheart, and the skittish Thrushflight who looked around with wide eyes as he entered the clearing. Behind them followed Rosesong, head held high as was her customary habit, and rounding out the group was Aspenheart, the father of the apprentices. Ghost was glad to see he had neither his mate Silverfern with him nor his apprentice Fogpaw.

Nettlestar began the training session by demonstrating a move and the four cats broke off in pairs to practice until all could perform the maneuver effectively. Ghost had her eyes glued to Nettlestar, the way the dark tom barked out orders and effortlessly attacked or evaded his clanmates. He was as natural as a fish in water.

Towards the end of the session, the cats began fighting like they would in a real battle, using the cumulation of all their skills to combat their opponent. Aspenheart was sitting the session out, watching keenly from the sidelines while Nettlestar took on Thrushflight.

Ghost watched attentively; this was a rare glimpse into Nettlestar's true battle skill. And unfortunately for Thrushflight, he was on an entirely different level. He whipped his sheathed paws across Thrushflight's shoulder and when the pale brown tom dodged, the leader pressed the attack so that the tom couldn't recover.

Nettlestar was a fierce fighter, but Ghost could see the careful control in which he used his powers. That sort of calm precision unnerved her as much as Wolfclaw's overwhelming power and force had. In fact, it made her more nervous because it was so close to her own skills.

But this was not the time to doubt or worry, especially as the cats lined up and gave Nettlestar a respectful bow before leaving the clearing, the thin shafts of moonlight striping their pelts silver as they moved deeper into the shadows.

Ghost caught her breath, whatever worries or doubts or fears she held, she needed to forget them for just a moment. Nettlestar was alone in the clearing, standing in a solitary pool of moonlight, stretching out his shoulders and legs one by one, as relaxed as one should be in their own territory with no threat in sight.

And Ghost wanted to keep it that way, she slid her paws soundlessly over the pine branch, creeping closer, closer to her prey, closer to the end of her mission, closer to the end of her life as an assassin. _One last kill._

She was directly over Nettlestar now, he was carelessly grooming his fur, picking out the pits of moss and mud that had tangled into his dark brown fur. His black stripes were silky smooth and his taut muscle was relaxed while his pale green eyes scanned the edge of the clearing lazily, as if he could feel something was nearby but didn't know where it was nor did he care.

Ghost slid out her claws, eyes locked onto the back of his neck as he turned his head. Her blood rushed to her ears and she could feel her heart racing in anticipation. Her eagerness for the taste of blood- for the warm, full taste of flesh and life to be spilled out by her. Her mouth watered and her paws trembled with excitement.

Her mind was vacant of any thought but the death of the creature she saw beneath her. She wasn't thinking of Blackpoppy and her pleas, she wasn't thinking of Stormfang's ambition or Tinyfang's revenge. She wasn't even thinking of the shelter or Robin, for whom she always claimed were her reasons for killing. She didn't spare a single thought for Rowan or Felix and the fate of the city.

Nothing remained in her but the thirst for blood. It was not a foreign feeling to her, but it gripped her more strongly than ever so that she didn't think to worry about her bloodlust seeping out until she leaped down, claws outstretched and jaws open.

A cold shock raced through her as a moment before impact Nettlestar evaded her with a graceful sidestep. Not kind enough to let her recover from the harsher than anticipated landing and the surprise that she'd been noticed, he assaulted her instantly with a flurry of furious swipes before she'd regained her balance.

Unable to recover the upperpaw after he dodged her attack, Ghost found herself pinned on her back in a few moments, a fiery pain shooting from her shoulders as Nettlestar dug his claws deep into her flesh.

"That was a close one…" the leader murmured, looking down at her with cold eyes. "But your bloodlust gave you away, you truly are his sister, I've rarely felt anything so sinister." His tone was deferential, and Ghost paused her struggling for a heartbeat, _whose sister?_

"But I certainly can't allow you to live after trying to kill me, I'm sure you understand," his apologetic words were lost in the cold cruelty flickering in his eyes. Ghost froze, and with one last burst of strength, twisted her neck to bite deep into Nettlestar's paw.

The leader growled in pain and ripped his paw roughly from her grasp, using it to strike her soundly across her face, the blood from his open wound flowing sluggishly and dripping down on her face.

"Futile attempts disgust me," Nettlestar growled angrily, using his back claws to open long, deep wounds in her stomach. Ghost bit her tongue to keep from howling out, _come on… hurry up._ The dark leader seemed to tire of her silent endurance of pain quickly and he gripped her once again with his injured paw. Ghost glanced at it as it trembled slightly.

"It's time to say farewell now, if you have a message for your anyone, this is your last chance," Nettlestar growled, lowering his head and opening his jaws so that she could clearly see his white fangs hovering over her neck.

Ghost looked at him through narrow eyes, "Say hello to Wolfclaw for me," she mewed coldly. Confusion fogged Nettlestar's eyes and he paused for half a heartbeat before digging his jaws into her neck.

But she'd seen the signs, she'd heard him struggling to breathe, swaying off balance over her, and trembling uncontrollably. There was no strength behind his attack, and she stared back into his hateful eyes as he gave a final shudder and fell still, his grip slipping from her neck as she rolled over, letting him fall off of her as she climbed to her own paws, standing over the fallen leader.

Her wounds made every movement agony, and she felt cold and hollow, but it was Nettlestar who was dead.

**...**

**How did you like Ghost vs. Nettlestar? Since we never got Wolfclaw vs. Ghost, we needed something, even if it was only a little. Stay tuned for more~**

**If you feel like it, please leave a review! Let me know what you liked or didn't like- seriously, I really crave feedback for improving, so don't hold back if you have something to say! But I won't bother you if you don't want to. **


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